


The One Where They Are Porn Stars

by brokenstereotype



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Unus Annus - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24206812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenstereotype/pseuds/brokenstereotype
Summary: 'This is strangely wholesome for a porn au'that pretty much sums it up.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor, Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor/Tyler Scheid, Mark Fischbach/Sean McLoughlin/Ethan Nestor, Markiplier/CrankGameplays, Sean McLoughlin/Ethan Nestor, crankgameplays/jacksepticeye
Comments: 72
Kudos: 528





	1. Handy Bros

It's as he hits the three quarter of a mile mark on his treadmill that his phone rings. It interrupts his groove, but he doesn't stop as he accepts the call and presses the speakerphone button. 

“Go for Ethan.” He says, out of breath but professional at the same time. He's still not used to having an agent and he doesn't want to sound like the inexperienced child that he really is.

“Hey, Ethan. You busy?” Kev asks. He's a thirty something stocky man with a rapidly balding head but he does his job well enough. 

“Just finishing up my run, what's up?” He slows the pace down, taking long breaths to give his voice some kind of chance. 

Kev sounds like he's typing on a keyboard, the click clack matching the taps of his own feet against the treadmill.

“Got a job for you,” Kev says. Ethan perks up at that. “One you might be interested in.”

“Okay,” He says contemplative. Usually Kev just gives him the run down on some low quality amateur porn where the guy comes too fast and the hotel sheets smell like cigarettes. 

“Have you heard of Mark The Plier?” Kev asks, but it's rhetorical of course. Mark is the hottest up and coming porn star in the game right now. Ethan’s watched all of his videos; solo, the one where he takes two cocks at once and his favorite - the one where he completely destroys this brunette twink by making him come three times with just his mouth and fingers.

“Tell me you didn't.” Ethan says in disbelief. He's barely got three videos with more than twenty thousand views, there's no way Mark agreed to do a video with him.

Kev’s voice is proud when he says, “I did. Tomorrow at one. Wear something that's easy to take off.” And then he hangs up.

Ethan runs for about forty more seconds before he shuts the machine off and heaves deep breaths in and out of his mouth. His phone pings the tone of an incoming email. He thumbs open the app as he walks to the couch, running a towel through his sweaty hair.

It's an email from Kev, a copy of the contract between him and Mark outlined in bolded, daunting text. He skims through the bla bla bla’s and stops at Mark’s _will’s and wont’s_.

The _okay_ column is pretty basic, just saying that he's fine with either bottoming or topping, a little manhandling, restraints and all that jazz. 

The _hard no_ column contains two things; blood play and daddy kink which is underlined twice.

Ethan’s own preferences are so lame just because he wasn't experienced enough to even know that half of the things Mark had listed even existed. 

_Safeword: Stop._

Ethan can't help the breathy laugh he lets out at that. It's so normal that it's hilarious and makes him even more anxious to meet Mark.

-

The address Kev sends him takes him to a swanky hotel. There's an actual bellhop. He didn't even know bellhops were a thing in this millennium. 

He opted to wear a plain navy blue t-shirt and loose jeans, his hair falling into his eyes. He kind of feels like he just rolled out of bed instead of perfecting his _easily discarded_ look for two hours like he actually did. 

A small middle aged man answers the door with a warm smile. He's wearing a hat with a chicken on the front and there's a very intimidating camera on a tripod in the room behind him. 

“You must be Ethan,” He says. “Mark’s in the bathroom, come in and make yourself comfortable.” Ugh. Why does everything involving porn have to sound so cliche?

Ethan makes his way into the room and takes in the large bed taking up most of the space. It looks so comfy that he holds himself back from diving face first in the middle. There's not much else redeeming about the room; television, double wide windows with the curtains closed, small kitchenette and of course the bathroom where he can hear the shower running.

He stares at the door. Behind that door is the man he's about to fuck. All he wants to do is _look_ and _touch_ and look some more. 

The guy clears his throat. “You know, i had a different scene planned for this, but why don't we do it differently?” He suggests. Ethan looks over at him and waits. 

The guy (who he belatedly realizes must be the director) holds his finger up, walking to the bathroom door and disappearing inside. There's muffled noises and then the director comes back out, face flushed from the steam.

He goes to his camera and removes it from the tripod. “Go on, then.” He says.

Ethan looks to the cracked open door and swallows. Makes his feet move and then he can't seem to stop until he's standing in front of the opaque shower curtain and the silhouette of Mark’s body being soaped and lathered by his hands is all that exists in his world.

The curtain is pulled aside from the corner and Mark’s hair is sopping wet against his forehead, lips red and droplets of water dripping from his cupids bow and stubbled chin and jaw and _fuck fuck fuck_.

“Oh, hey!” Mark says cheerily. His smile is so wide and gorgeous and he wipes at his face to gather the droplets. He looks Ethan up and down, eyes going soft yet intrigued at the same time.

“Care to join?” He asks, rubbing a hand over his bare chest and licking some more water off of his lips. 

Ethan has never undressed faster in his life. 

He usually enters the shower right under the spray, but Mark's in the way and he goes to open the other side of the curtain, but Mark grabs his arm with wet, pruny fingers. 

“No, this side. It's alright, they have these duck shaped grippy things so you don't fall. Heaven send.” He assures. Ethan laughs, just a small amused one. He almost closes the curtain behind him, but the obnoxious camera being maneuvered by the obnoxious man makes him reconsider. 

Mark is a little bit shorter than him, but he's all muscle and it makes Ethan feel small. He presses closer, wanting to get under the spray to chase away the chill of the exposed air and suddenly he can feel each breath Mark takes.

“Uh, hi.” Ethan giggles. Their faces are very close. Mark has a water droplet clinging to his eyelash. Mark smiles at him, his fingertips brushing Ethan’s side as he picks up the small hotel shampoo bottle.

“You're so cute.” Mark says offhandedly. He pours a small dollop of shampoo in his palm and rubs it together before plopping it in Ethan's hair. He's giggling as he spikes Ethan's hair with it, his chest bumping Ethan's each time he tries to get closer. His cock bumps against his every other movement. 

Mark admires his work and then kisses him. His sudsy palms slide through Ethan's hair and behind his ears, cupping his jaw. His tongue is warm and it twists and flips inside of his mouth, making his head swim deliciously.

“Mmm,” Ethan moans, reaching for the bottle of shampoo and clumsily pouring some into his hand, tangling his fingers through Mark's hair and trying to soap up his hair as much as he can. He moves his fingers like Mark moves his tongue - over, under, around and around. A nip of his teeth and his fingers tug a loop of hair.

They're both hard, grinding against each other and running their soapy hands along the other's body until they are sufficiently clean. 

They part with their tongues separating last and look at each other with blown out pupils. It's so hot in the shower even though the water has started to turn cold.

They rinse themselves free of soap, watching the other watching them. There's only one towel hanging from the rack and they take turns haphazardly drying off, the director following with the camera as they leave the bathroom and head towards the bed.

“Usually i don't have a preference about fucking or getting fucked,” Mark says against his mouth. He nudges him back when Ethan's legs hit the edge of the bed and he falls flat against the mattress, Mark starting down the length of his body like he's mapping his attack. “But, i really want my hands, mouth and dick inside of you.” 

Ethan can't help it, “At the same time?” He makes sure his voice is full of wonder. Mark laughs that adorable giggle laugh hybrid and Ethan feels more and more at ease. 

“I don't think anyone is that flexible.” Mark says. He leans over Ethan and brings their lips together again. These slow, hot kisses that have Ethan's legs sliding apart, letting Mark's body line up against his own sweaty skin.

“I might be,” Ethan says. “Used to be a gymnast.” He says in between kisses, talking out the side of his mouth when Mark bites at his lower lip. 

Mark pulls back to take in his face. He shakes his head, smiling as he bites a kiss at Ethan's neck.

“Oh, we are going to have _so_ much fun.” He promises.

Ethan's teasing _did we just become best friends?_ is cut short by Mark sucking a bite against his shoulder, grinding his hard dick against his thigh. Ethan reaches out to feel the way his shoulders move with his movements, the hard muscle rippling and shifting beneath his fingertips.

“Gonna make you feel so good.” Mark whispers as he slides down the length of Ethan's body, leaving light kisses down his skin and nestling at his thighs. 

“You can pull my hair,” Mark says, looking up at Ethan from under his eyelashes, lips pouting out adorably. “I like it.” And then he takes Ethan's cock in his mouth until it hits the back of his throat.

Ethan hesitates before tangling his fingers in Mark's hair, but he _did_ offer it - so. He watches at the way Mark's hair slides through his fingers from Mark's ministrations alone, breathy coming out all heavy and hot by how _fucking amazing_ it feels to have Mark's lips wrapped tight around his cock. 

He gives an experimental tug and Mark chokes around his cock, then moans appreciatively, hips fucking down against the mattress. His head falls back against the mattress, holding on tight to Mark's hair and trying not to fuck his cock all the way down Mark's esophagus. 

It almost startles him when he's met with the lens of the camera, the director looming over them to get a full shot of Mark sucking his entire soul out through his dick. He bites his lip all coy and sexy (well, he hopes) and pets Mark's hair approvingly. 

Mark gives three more good sucks, cheeks hollowing obscenely and then pops off with red, abused lips. He licks his lips, looking up at Ethan with a devilish grin.

“Wanna fuck you now.” He says, sitting up on his knees and kissing Ethan on the lips. He waits for Ethan's enthusiastic nod and reaches over to slide a hand under one of the pillows. His hand comes back with a small travel sized packet of lube. Ethan watches as Mark tears open the edge with his teeth, drizzling the goop across two of his fingers. 

“Handy.” Ethan comments, eyes flicking from the lube rubbing between Mark's fingers to the smirk stretching at his lips. He's becoming very familiar and fond of it.

"Oh, i am very _handy_." He even punctuates the innuendo with an over exaggerated wink. Dork.

"Bros helping bros." Ethan says, but it's lame and weak and goes all breathy when Mark brings his lubed up fingers to where Ethan wants him most. Mark says "Bro," like some terrible surfer bro and pushes his finger in. Ethan's breath hitches, his back arching up to get more of that delicious fullness.

"Handy bro's." He groans, rocking his hips with the thrusting of Mark's finger. He wants to pull his legs up, plant his feet on the mattress and really ride his finger, but he wants more before he gets that shameless. He has _some_ restraint, thank you. 

"Just a bro handy between bro's." Mark laughs and Ethan joins him, the clenching of his abdomen making other areas clench and Mark's finger feels that much bigger inside of him. He gasps, tossing his head back and letting out a low moan/almost whine. Well, he didn't say it was _a lot_ of restraint.

"Fuck, fuck. Another, come on." He begs. His legs slide up without his permission, and suddenly he's splayed open for Mark's viewing. And of course the camera when the director nearly leaps across the room to get better access.

Mark slides another finger in on the next thrust in and Ethan thrusts back, riding his fingers for all he's got. Mark's barely even moving his fingers at this point, he could be just holding still for all Ethan knows. Or cares. 

"Let's see how flexible you really are," He hears Mark say, a deep rumble that just turns him on even more. In the next moment, Mark's fingers are gone and he pushes his palms at the back of Ethan's thighs, pushing his legs up to either side of his face. He just stares in astonishment for a few heaving breaths and then he shakes his head as if to get himself back in the moment.

" _Fuck_." It's barely even audible, but Ethan is watching Mark's mouth intently so he can clearly see each sound being shaped by his lips. It's intoxicating to know that he's not the only one losing his mind at how hot this is. Mark wastes no time in putting his fingers back to work. He ramps it up to a hard, punishing, thigh trembling pace and Ethan holds onto his own thighs just to have something to tether him to the earth.

He knows that he's making these high pitched moans, but he doesn't really care. And it doesn't seem like Mark nor the director really mind either. 

"Fuck me, please." He almost screams it out. He meets Mark's eyes and knows that Mark can see the small quiver in his lip when he hides his mouth behind his leg and whispers, "Please sir, may i have some more?" And sucks his lips in to not laugh. Mark barks out a laugh, hides it in Ethan's neck. 

"So professional." Mark mumbles against his skin, low enough that the camera won't hear. He pulls back and schools his face back to mean business.

"You ever had a dick in you before?" Mark asks and Ethan's about to roll his eyes and then pauses. Glances past Mark's shoulder to raise an eyebrow at the director. The guy looks at him for a second before sending him some dismissive hand signal that Ethan takes as _you decide if you're a virgin or not_.

Ethan focuses back on Mark. "No, but i want it so bad." He let's his voice go all innocent like he knows guys like. Mark smiles, showing just the points of his teeth.

"Gonna make you feel so good. So full." Mark promises. He places a hand to Ethan's sternum to reach behind him for the discarded packet of lube. "Here, come here." He flops back on the bed, feet getting tangled underneath of him and ends up kicking Ethan in the ass cheek. He giggles, laughing even as Ethan climbs into his lap, straddling his thighs.

"Kiss me." Mark says softly and Ethan does. He kisses him deep and filthy, letting his tongue touch and slide across every inch of Mark's mouth. He feels Mark's arm moving underneath the unused pillow next to them, away from the cameras view and when he peaks his eye open, he has a square foil in his hand. He shifts so that Mark can put the condom on himself and then lifts up so that he can slowly sit on Mark's dick. When he feels Mark's dick sliding more and more into him, he twists their tongues slower and deeper, nearly swallowing all of Mark's air out of his lungs. He grinds in his lap for a while to get used to the girth and stretch.  
  
Mark's hands are gripping his ass and running up and down the small of his back and over the bumps of his spine. He just kisses Ethan and touches him and moans so beautiful. Ethan starts to work his way up and the down slowly, gaining speed each time he bottoms out. Mark breathes heavy through his nose and Ethan let's him have some air, bending his back and resting his hands on Mark's thighs. He cranes his neck back, letting his body curve and arch the way it wants to, bouncing on Mark's dick and letting out these hiccup-y groans each time Mark snaps his hips up. 

Mark slides his palms up Ethan's sides, sending little zaps of fire through his skin. He pulls him forward and lets him see his blown out pupils. His hair is so fucked out, it's so mind-numbingly sexy. If he wasn't already a porn star, Ethan would suggest he try his hand at it.

"Get on your hands and knees." Mark advises. It makes Ethan feel comforted how even when Mark tells him to do something, it's said as calming as if he were telling him to get some water to stay hydrated. Ethan complies, hanging his head down for a few seconds just to get over the awkward feeling of having your bare ass to a camera.

Mark slaps a hand down on his ass cheek and Ethan yelps. Mark laughs, but it sounds apologetic. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't think it was going to be that hard." He laughs again through clenched teeth. Ethan turns his head to give him an unamused look but ends up smiling anyways. He settles for laying his cheek on his arm and bearing his weight through his chest on the mattress. Might as well get comfy.

He watches Mark stroke himself a few times, just looking at Ethan bent down on a mattress. Ethan kicks at him.

"Hey, this isn't a free show." He teases. Mark laughs again. It's addicting to make him laugh, Ethan is realizing.

Mark lines up, letting just the tip nudge against his hole. Ethan raises his eyebrows. Mark raises his back. They end up having some sort of contest where neither of them caves, until both of their eyebrows are as high as they go and they're eyes are wide and they probably look like dumbasses. Ethan huffs out a laugh and, just to get the show on the road (he did _not_ give up!), he pushes his ass back until Mark's dick pushes passed the rim. Sweet mercy.

Mark looks triumphant and feels it too when he starts thrusting like it's his victory, not letting up in the slightest. He brings a foot up to gain leverage against the mattress and really starts to fuck every coherent thought out of Ethan's mind. Ethan's just trying not to lose his soul out through his mouth or something, bracing his elbows against the bed and moaning and groaning and whining. He might cry, it feel so good.

"Fuck," Is the only word in his vocabulary at the moment. "G'na come-" He thinks he says. Mark keeps up his fast pace, hands gripping at Ethan's hips, hopefully (dear god, please) leaving bruises. He's grunting, these little escaped moans each time he thrusts into Ethan and now his rhythm is getting sloppy, no finesse left in him. Just a race to the finish. He leans over, let's Ethan feel his panting against his ear. Fuck, the moans up close and personal are _heaven_.

He brings a hand around and starts stroking Ethan at the same time he's thrusting into him and it's just so so _so so -_

"Shit! Yes, fuck." He babbles the entire time he comes and his legs shake and his arms lock up and he can hear Mark make this delicious high whine in his ear as he comes as well and they're both just thrusting against and into each other, collapsing against the bed when it's done.

They're panting and sweating and Mark rolls off of Ethan to flop next to him, though the back of his hand lands on Ethan's back all scorching and heavy against his oversensitive skin. Ethan is pretty sure he died. Tell the non believers that heaven is real and it is delightful.

"Nice, guys." The director says. It's unfair that his voice is so composed and unaffected. That was _magical_. "Checks are on the table. See you next time." And the he's gone. 

Ethan mumbles against the bedspread, "Wow. Okay. Bye." He can't even be fucked to say more than two syllable words at the moment. Mark hums, his hand starting to trace a lazy pattern against Ethan's back.

"Yeah, Gayle's like that. He's all business. Never pops a boner though, it's odd." He supplies. Ethan turns his face to look at Mark.

"His name is _Gayle_? Why would you tell me that? I can't ever see him as anything other than Gayle. Thanks." He laughs and hides his face against the damp sheets. Mark laughs, but it's lazy and exhausted. 

"Gayle Pringle, if it makes it any better." He looks over at Ethan and there's a minute where Mark's hand stills on his back and it's dead silent in the room.

And the the next, they're laughing so hard, they're gasping for breath and rolling into each other's spaces and wiping at their eyes for stray tears. So much better than post coital cuddles.

When they're getting dressed, Mark has his jeans unbuttoned and he's fixing his hair in the mirror. "You like video games?' He asks. Glances at Ethan in the mirror.

"Uh, yea." Ethan says. Weird small talk when you're about to do the walk of shame. He runs a hand through his hair and tucks his arms under his pits. He's been dressed for five minutes, but he doesn't know how to just leave. Doesn't really want to.

"You should come to mine tomorrow, if you're not busy. We can chill." He says, shrugs. He turns around and looks at Ethan. His pants are still unbuttoned and his feet are bare. 

"Yea, totally." Ethan says. "Free as a bird tomorrow." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk to me on tumblr! niallsthickneck


	2. Irish Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TWO FOR ONE WOOHOO!
> 
> Ethan/Sean and then wholesome Ethan/Mark that turns not so wholesome.

The video goes viral. Well, in the porn world. Apparently, people like when you actually enjoy having sex with someone. The video gets featured at the top of numerous porn sites and Kev keeps sending him emails about mildly known porn stars that want to work with him.

The title of the video is _boyfriends fuck for the first time (super hot and intimate)._ He's been getting tweets from thousands of people inquiring if him and Mark are actually dating. He sees a tweet that Mark responds to, _he broke up with me after I took the mini shampoos from the hotel and he got left with the pen._

Him and Mark text all the time. Mark sends him a picture of himself giving a thumbs up with their video at the top of Pornhub in the background. He's only wearing a muscle tank and his dick is out. He really didn't think he would find a best friend in this industry.

Kev sends him a contract for a scene with Seàn ‘ _Irish Cream’_. He'd put three asterisks neck to the subject line and Ethan sees why he favorites it. Irish Cream is his stage name, hilarious and perfect one at that. He's just got his break from his threesome video with two well known stars. It's a hot video and Ethan re watches the part where Seàn’s arms are held above his head at the wrists by a large hand and the two guys touch and kiss his writhing body. 

It intrigues him and he half wonders if they would let him tie him up. Torture him until he's begging in that thick accent they obviously make him exaggerate. He sends confirmation back to Kev with his ideas about the shoot, asking if Kev could talk to Seàn’s agent about it.

 _kinky bastard_ is all Kev sends back. 

He's anxious and excited about the shoot, practicing his dominance in the mirror. It doesn't work as well because he keeps wincing every time he thinks about telling someone what to do. Which leads him to pretending he's a cop and pointing his finger gun at the mirror saying _freeze bitch_ in different forms, but it just makes him want to watch _Cops_.

They have him send his clothes measurements and tell him to wear whatever to the shoot because they're going to provide his attire. 

The location is at a condo complex and it looks way too nice to be used for some twenty something’s to fuck in. 

When he's let into the room by a different director this time, he's ushered to the bathroom where a pile of neatly folded clothes sit on the sink. It's just a white button up, black blazer and tight as fuck slacks and he feels ridiculous when he finally puts it all on. 

An older woman comes into the bathroom and starts fussing at his hair. She's got these large round glasses that hang onto the edge of her nose and strings of beads holding them onto her ears. 

“Now, I presume you've read the script?” She asks and at Ethan's nod, she continues, her sharp nails scratching at his scalp. “We're going to let the two of you get acquainted for a bit, there will be a camera on you, but that's just in case any impromptu groping happens.” 

Once he's been well groomed and approved by the stylist, he peeks around the bathroom door and sees Seàn sitting on the couch, identical outfit framing his slouched posture. 

He walks to the couch and almost puts his hand out for a nice handshake but aborts the motion halfway through and ends up with his hand just hovering in the air.

“Would a handshake be too formal since i'll probably have your dick in my hand in a few minutes?” He wonders aloud. Seàn laughs, patting the spot on the couch next to him.

“Oh, you're cute. You can shake my dick if you would like, get to know him.” He teases back. 

Ethan takes the seat next to him, their thighs touching. He feels nervous, not sure where to start. There's a camera pointed at them and he tries to ignore it, but the little flashing red light keeps catching his eyes.

“So,” He says. “What business meeting do you suppose we just came from?” The script didn't go into too much detail, just _returned from business meeting, Irish Cream was teasing Ethan all night and gets punished for it - restrained to headboard and teased until E takes him_.

Seàn thinks, bringing a hand up to scratch at his beard. He's got more hair than Mark, on his face, chest and arms. It looks scratchy and Ethan wants to touch.

“Dildo’s with personalized voice recordings.” He decides. Ethan laughs, starts moaning horribly to things like _yeah baby, you like my vibrations?_ and _does my plastic dick make you hard?_

They bounce sayings off of each other, getting more and more ridiculous. When Seàn starts mimicking Mario orgasming by making these breathy moans saying, _ya ya YAHOO_ , Ethan absolutely loses it, hiccuping out laughs that make his belly hurt.

It's when he catches sight of scarves laying on the table that he sobers up. Scarves to tie Seàn to the headboard. He stands up and walks over to them, a thousand and one scenarios flashing through his mind. 

“You've been teasing me all night.” He says, more just remembering the script and why they need the scarves in the first place, but it's as good a segue as any. He picks up the navy blue one, runs it through his fingers. It's silky and soft and would look amazing wrapped around Seàns pale wrists. 

He looks over his shoulder and Seàn watches him carefully, his arms stretched out over the head of the couch. His face is flushed from all the laughing, but it just makes him look turned on and so willing. 

Ethan's out of view of the camera, so he brings the scarf with him back to the couch, standing over Seàn with a contemplative look.

“You've been having a hard time keeping your hands to yourself tonight,” He says. Seàn looks amused, but he takes on an innocent softness to his eyes.

“Couldn't help myself.” He says with a shrug. He opens his thighs so Ethan can stand between them. 

“Maybe i should teach you how to control your hands?” He inquires, stretching the scarf between his fists. Seàn whispers, _yea maybe_ but Ethan swallows it down when he leans down and pushes their lips together. He tests it out, placing either hand on Seàn’s biceps, feeling the muscles twitch under his hold. The scarf raises goosebumps along Seàn’s skin and Ethan smiles against his mouth. 

The material of the shirt and blazer is restricting, actually it's pretty comfortable and not as itchy as he thought it would be but it's restricting his ability to touch skin. He starts gripping at the fabric on Seàn’s arms, wishing he had that awesome ability to tear through fabric with minimal effort. 

Seàn’s voice is thick when he says, “Want me to take it off?” His bottom lips catches Ethan's and when he pulls back, Ethan licks the taste of his words off of his lips.

“Want you to show me exactly what you wanted when you were touching me under the table in front of all those men.” Says Ethan. He pushes off of Seàn’s arms and levels him with a stare as he walks backwards (god he _hopes_ there's nothing lying in the floor for him to trip on) until he's standing next to the camera, out of shot. 

Seàn stays where he is for a second, before pushing off of the couch and standing. He brings his hands to the blazer, slowly removing it from his arms and his eyes never leave Ethan’s. The buttons on the shirt got next, his fingers flexing and twisting to get the buttons undone and more and more chest hair appears. 

Ethan may not be as composed as he likes to think he's been giving off. He hopes the camera can't pick up his heavy breathing.

When he's shirtless, Seàn teases at the waistband of his pants, slipping his fingertips just past the band and smirking when he sees Ethan lick his lips. He's a certified tease and that's what makes him so good at his job.

Underneath his pants, he's wearing tight black briefs. They make his legs look skinny and long, standing out against his pale skin. Ethan drinks in the sight of him, gripping the scarf in his hand anxiously.

“Get on the bed.” He says, calm and even when he's anything but. He waits until Seàn obliges, laying himself delicately on top of the duvet, and stretching his arms above his head, the length of his body in nothing but those black briefs is a sight to behold. 

“Like this?” He teases. He brings a hand down to place over his hardening dick, rocking the heel of his palm over it and breathing heavy out of his mouth. 

The action has Ethan finally moving from his spot by the camera, grabbing Seàn’s wrist and securing it by the other next to his head. Seàn looks absolutely _thrilled_ to be manhandled and his hips fuck up against nothing. 

“No touching,” Ethan reminds him. Seàn says very softly _i'm gonna touch_ and Ethan is glad the camera can't see the silent laugh that takes over his faux dominance aura. 

He keeps Seàn’s wrists pinned to the pillow by his right hand as he places the scarf between his teeth to situate his arms where he wants him. The first knot of the scarf around Seàn’s wrists is too tight, Seàn wincing and saying _fucking hell, i'm not a hog_ and Ethan apologizes, loosens it so that his wrists can breathe.

Suddenly, he doesn't know where to start, wishing for a second that there wasn't a camera on them so that he could take his time to kiss and touch and bite at every freckle dotting Seàn’s skin. 

He let's him writhe and squirm on the bed for a minute, reminding himself that this is supposed to be a punishment for Seàn. Maybe himself as well. His toes are nearly curling in the carpet by how badly he wants to touch. 

When he brings just a fingertip to the line of Seàn’s taut bicep, Seàn twitches and his arms strain against the fabric holding him back. He runs a delicate touch along his skin, watching in fascination as it makes Seàn shiver and his abdomen trembles. He pinches at a nipple and Seàn makes a sound like a hiccup, making them both laugh. 

“S’like when you squeeze a toy pig and it oinks.” He says under his breath. Seàn’s laughs, grumbles _again with the hog shite_ and Ethan squeezes his nipple again, giggling when he makes the same sound. 

“Pigs are _thicc_ though. Double c and everything.” He's mumbling as he runs his fingers across and over the bumps of his ribs, swirling through the hair at his belly. 

“Stop talking about pigs and _do something_.” Seàn nearly yells, rubbing his ass against the bedspread and splaying his legs out. Ethan decides to give his ADHD some relief, tucking his fingers under the band of Seàn’s briefs and tugging them down his legs. His dick springs out like a jack in the box and he suppresses his laugh at the imagery by biting at his bottom lip. 

Seàn lays there, completely naked and stretched out, waiting for Ethan to take him apart. Ethan still has all of his clothes on. 

He gets on with it, running his palms up Seàn’s thighs, spreading his legs even farther apart and drops a kiss to the inside of each thigh. His nose nudges just under his balls and he teases a lick just under them, just to hear Seàn swear something unintelligible. 

He takes Seàn’s dick in his hand, whispers _nice to meet you_ just to amuse himself and licks a long stripe up the side. He likes sucking dick well enough, doesn't have the best gag reflex but he knows to keep his teeth tucked away and makes sure to produce a lot of spit to make it enjoyable for the both of them. 

Seàn moans, most of them sound genuine but he can tell that some of the sounds he makes are for the camera's benefit. Ethan makes it his mission to make sure Seàn doesn't have to fake anything. He sucks hard, hallows out his cheeks and brings a hand into the equation to really get him going. He's barely breathing, just focusing on making Seàn as breathless as he is. 

It's when Seàn lets out this broken, needy whine that he pulls his mouth off. Seàn’s chest is heaving, face flushed and feet kicking at nothing. Ethan reaches a hand under the spare pillow and grabs one of the packets of lube, successfully tearing off the end without having to resort to using his teeth. He squeezes the entire contents into his hand, wanting this to be as filthy as can be and takes his place back between Seàn’s legs.

He kisses the tip of Seàn’s dick, adding more saliva to make the suck down easier. Once he sets up a good pace, he pokes his slick finger around until Seàn’s thighs are covered in lube and he makes contact with his hole. It's like finding the light switch in a dark room and he looks up at Seàn in victory. Seàn’s looking back at him, but he doesn't look proud of his discovery, he looks wrecked and like he needs to get fucked in the next two minutes. 

Ethan slowly starts petting at his rim while he swirls his tongue around his dick, making these god awful slurping noises that make his nose wrinkle. When Seàn can't keep his head up anymore to watch, he lays his head back between his restrained arms and curls his toes against the mattress. 

Ethan fucks him with his fingers, adding another when he feels that Seàn can take it and then another when his moans turn to just drawn out vowels. 

“Please,” Seàn moans. His wrists are twisted and his hands are gripped tightly to the scarf. His face is twisted in pleasure or torture, Ethan can't tell the difference anymore. His legs are spread as wide as they can go and he looks so fucking delicious. 

“Please what?” Ethan asks, just to stall for time while he grabs one of the _five_ condoms under the pillow. Is that even possible to use in one session? Good gracious.

“Fuck me.” Seàn says, voice breaking when Ethan starts to just rip his own clothes off. He gets his arms tangled and almost dislocates his shoulder trying to get the damn shirt off. Seàn’s narrowed eyes read as _how the fuck did you turn me on this much_ but his dick doesn't soften, so. More a read of his character than Ethan’s. 

The zipper on the pants gets stuck and he’s getting so frustrated, he almost asks Seàn to help him. Ha. Finally, he's as naked as his partner and he's as out of breath as him. For different reasons, unfortunately. 

“Kay. Crisis averted.” He mumbles, slipping the condom on and taking a breather for just a second. He should really invest in a personal trainer. 

“Take your time, no rush or anything.” Seàn shakes his bound arms with a blank look. Ethan grabs the back of his thighs and guides his dick in, not stopping until he bottoms out. Seàn’s breath gets sucked out of his lungs, his head thrown back and no noise coming from anywhere.

“So, _that's_ what makes you stop talking.” He teases. He starts grinding against Seàn’s ass, letting him get used to the stretch. Once he starts breathing again, Ethan slowly pulls out and thrusts hard back in. He enjoys the little broken moans it punches out of Seàn each time he fucks hard. 

He can't quite get the leverage he wants like this, not sure how to get where he wants to be. He thinks as he fucks and looks up to Seàn’s bound wrists. 

“Can you,” He starts, pulls out and taps at his hips. Seàn groans, can barely move save for his trembling legs. Ethan helps him roll over onto his knees, the loose hold of the scarf giving him leverage to twist around. It lets him lean his forearms against the headboard and Ethan can see stretching his fingers out to get the blood flowing properly again. 

From this angle, he can sit up on his knees and grip Seàn’s hips tightly as he pounds into him, hitting a spot inside of him that makes Seàn’s head hang between his arms. He fucks as hard and as deep as he can and at one point Seàn’s head bangs against the headboard, which he'll most likely feel once the endorphins wear off but he just pushes back against Ethan’s thrusts and rides the waves of pleasure.

Ethan looks down, slows his movement to see the obscene picture of his dick sliding in and out of Seàn's ass, feeling the intensity of his pleasure prickling like fire in his veins. 

“So fucking hot.” He comments. He fucks in deep, Seàn’s long moan crashing over his skin like the sweetest melody. 

“Need -” Seàn gasps, wiping his sweaty forehead on his arm. “Touch, please.” He begs. Spreads his legs further apart and closer like he just can't keep still. 

Ethan gives him some mercy, wrapping a hand around his wet dick and letting Seàn do all of the work, fuck his own hips against his hand and fucking himself back against Ethan’s dick. 

He gets as good a grip as he can on the headboard and really starts fucking himself on Ethan’s dick, taking what he needs with no shame. Ethan is going to come but he needs Seàn to get there first. He tightens his hold on Seàn’s dick just that much tighter and Seàn moans _yesssss_ and pants out moans as he comes. 

Ethan lets him enjoy his own bubble of euphoria, aftershocks making his body jolt and squeeze at Ethan’s dick like a glove. He pushes his cum covered hand at Seàn’s back, breath hitching as he complies and watches his lean, stretched out back as he fucks him hard and fast. The no rhythm left in him, just chasing his own orgasm and when Seàn looks back at him over his shoulder with tears spilling down his cheek but a blissed out smile on his face, he comes. 

It's so intense and amazing that he almost puts two fingers to his pulse point to make sure he's not stroking out. He pulls out and pitches the condom, not sure what to do with the cum getting tacky on his hand. 

“Uhm, hello?” Seàn says pointedly. He's still tied to the headboard. Ethan unties him, watches as he sits back on his heels and rubs at his wrists. 

He doesn't know what to do about that, feeling oddly guilty. Two water bottles sit on the table and he goes to grab them both. Five condoms and only two water bottles. Priorities. 

They drink the water down greedily and look at each other out of the corners of their eyes. Why is it so awkward after the orgasms? They should have a protocol for this. 

“So, uh.” Ethan says, spilling a bit of water out of his mouth from not swallowing all the contents in his mouth. Jeesh. “Thanks, that was - uh, fun.” Awkward is as awkward does. 

Seàn laughs, but it's tired and sated and not mocking. “Back at you. I'll have my agent be in touch with yours.” And then he's wincing as he limps to the bathroom. Ethan plays with the top of the water bottle until the lady with the beaded glasses tosses him his clothes and tucks his check in his waistband. 

“Impromptu groping.” She smiles. “Always happens.” And she pats at his cheek and goes to straighten out the room. 

-

It's a few hours after the shoot and a long hot shower later that Ethan shows up at Mark’s with a brown bag full of greasy take out food. 

“ _Ohhhh_ , I've missed you.” Mark says. Ethan feels warm at that admission until Mark delicately takes the grease soaked bag and walks away with it with a dopey smile on his face. 

He's dressed in sweatpants and a worn t-shirt and he has glasses on. He looks soft and comfy and Ethan follows after him for some of that feeling. He kicks his shoes off, flops onto the couch and watches as Mark holds a french fry between two fingers and bites at it like he has to savor every bite. 

“God, I haven't had fast food in _so_ long.” He slouches back against the couch and sighs like he's in heaven. His eyes are closed as he finishes off the fry. Ethan wonders if he was sleeping before he showed up. 

“Working on that sweet summer bod?” He asks, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and crossing his ankles. His socks don't match and one has a hole at the big toe. 

Mark hums, licking the salt off his fingers and taking a swig from his glass of water on the table. 

“Na,” He says. “My trainer, Alex - who is _so_ fucking sexy by the way - has me on this strict schedule.” He goes searching in the bag and pulls out a poorly wrapped burger. He takes a bite and talks as he has ketchup on his lip. 

“I've tried to talk him into doing a video with me cause he's like super ripped and gorgeous and whatever.” He scoops the escaped ketchup in his mouth and flicks a stray clump of lettuce onto the wrapper. “But he's really trying to get his business going and I appreciate a good working man.”

He winks horribly at Ethan. His eyes look tired. 

“I just want him to _fuck_ me. Like, i know he'd be a good time.” He shakes his head, inhaling as he finishes off the last bite. “Anyways, what did you do today? You look tired.” 

Ethan watches him, smiles lazy and lets his eyes swoop close for a second. 

“Had a shoot.” He says briefly. “Seàn something. Irish dude.” 

Mark’s eyes go wide and he chews faster, leaning forward to wash the food down with water. 

“You had a shoot with Seàn? Oh, _please_ tell me you asked for some of his Irish Cream. He absolutely _hates_ it.” He's practically giddy, sitting up straight and turning his body towards Ethan. He brings his legs up on the couch, tucking them against himself and laughs to himself.

“You know him?” Ethan asks. He hadn't seen any videos of them together. 

Mark rolls his head back against the head of the couch. “We dated for a bit,” He waves a hand dismissively. “So, how was it?” 

Ethan thinks back to the scarf but hesitates. “You sure you wanna hear about me fucking your ex? How long did you date for?” 

Mark laughs, says _only like a year_ and waits expectantly for the dirty details. Ethan frowns. “Why did you break up?” He asks. 

Mark sighs, all put out and annoyed but it's lighthearted. Seems like it's a touchy subject. 

“I wanted to settle down and have kids and he - didn't. Would have rathered sucked off some random guy on camera than put a ring on it.” He smacks his lips and reaches for the glass of water. He looks at Ethan as he drinks. 

Ethan says, “Fuck, really?” and Mark laughs, says, “No, of course not!” Ethan kicks him. 

“It's just not ideal to date in this industry. We're still friends and we still hook up every once in a while.” He shrugs. It amazes Ethan. He hasn't dateed since he decided to fuck on camera but he didn't even think of what the fallout would be like if he did. 

Mark rests his head back down and his face goes all frowny. He looks lost in thought. 

“Did you have a shoot today?” Ethan asks. He looks tired but not that sated - syrupy tired that comes after a good fuck. 

Mark sighs the sigh of a defeated man. “Yeah, I did.” And he pouts. “But the guy got sick halfway through so it got cancelled.”

Ethan studies him. “How far is halfway?” He's beginning to understand Mark’s bad mood. 

Mark laughs and it's hollow. “Like, my dick was down his throat and he had two fingers in my ass.” He sounds sad. Ethan winces. 

“Yikes.” He says because what else do you say? Hallmark doesn't make shit for aborted blowjobs. 

Mark says _yea_ all quiet and then sits up straighter. “You know,” He begins and his voice has gone all deep and flirtatious. Ethan swallows. “If you're not too tired..” He trails off, staring at where Ethan is sure his pulse is beating rapidly on his neck.

Ethan says, “What do you want?” Adjusts his pants against his interested dick. He's never had sex with two people in the same day, he's excited. Wonders if Mark has a party hat somewhere. 

Mark is slowly leaning further and further into his personal space, his eyes looking so bright behind his glasses. 

“Maybe finish what that douche couldn't?” He suggests. What that _douche_ couldn't finish was fucking Mark. Ethan just keeps thinking _fuck mark fuck mark fuck mark_ and says “Fuck, yes.” instead. 

Mark smiles, he looks so happy and relieved and he crawls across the cushions to get at Ethan. There's no cameras on them, no show to put on, but Mark is clearly too horny to take his time and he slots his mouth over Ethan’s and places his fingers over his maddening pulse point. 

Ethan grabs at the soft fabric at Mark’s hips, stretching his neck to try to swallow Mark’s tongue or anything to get him closer. Mark swings a leg over his thighs and sits in his lap. 

“Is that your dick or are you just happy to see me?” Mark says in a mocking tone. He bounces three times on Ethan’s dick, reveling in the quiet moans it pushes out of Ethan.

Ethan wants to snark back, but instead he takes his hand and pushes it into Mark’s sweatpants, wrapping his fingers around his hard dick. It's hot and soft and already a bit wet. Mark’s laugh breaks off into a sharp gasp.

“Isn't that just the pot calling the kettle hard.” He says back. Mark nods, obviously not even listening, so Ethan kisses him as he strokes his cock. He doesn't have a lot of room due to the sweatpants, so he pulls his hand out and helps Mark maneuver around to get them off and flung far far away from them. He's gone commando, for which Ethan is super grateful because he really really can't stand clothes right now. 

Mark’s grabby hands pull at his shirt with no care, his ear ringing after it gets caught and his nails scratch lines down his legs when he tugs Ethan’s pants off. 

“Wanna take this to a bed?” Ethan asks, just to be nice, but he honestly doesn't know if he could even move without just slipping his dick into Mark.

“No - no, here good. Anywhere else - bad.” He says, climbing back into Ethan’s lap and rubbing all up on him. He reaches blindly for Ethan’s hand, pushing down each finger until just his pointer and middle finger are raised. He licks his lips obscenely and takes the fingers into his mouth, sucking and salivating around them, staring straight into Ethan’s eyes as he gags around them. 

When he takes them out, there's spit sliding down Ethan’s hand and he immediately brings them behind Mark, kissing him deeply as he pushes both fingers inside. Mark rocks back onto them, his back rolling like he's dancing. He gasps into Ethan’s mouth, muttering _so much better than that guy would've been_. 

Ethan breaks the kiss to watch Mark fall apart on his fingers, cataloguing which points make his mouth fall open and which make his dick leak.

He's beautiful in the soft light, just a small lamp in the corner of the room casting a yellow shade over Mark’s ruined body. He holds onto Ethan’s shoulders as he basks in his own pleasure and Ethan let's him enjoy it, letting him take what he needs to make up for his terrible day.

When Mark’s body starts to slow it's rocking, he waits until Mark meets his eyes and pulls his fingers out. Mark flicks his hand in the direction ofthe side table and Ethan fishes out a condom, putting it on as fast as he can without fucking it up. 

He lets Mark guide his dick in, somehow knowing that he needs this. Needs to take and take and not have someone else disappoint him. Ethan just holds onto Mark’s bare hips and lets him sit on his dick. 

There's a dripping faintly in the house somewhere; a leaky faucet or something and Ethan counts to seven drips before Mark starts rocking his hips, lifting just a bit before dropping back down again. Mark sighs, like his entire world has been righted and uses Ethan’s shoulders for leverage as he starts bouncing on his dick. 

When Mark absently starts to lean backwards and to the left, Ethan holds onto his back so he doesn't fall and take his dick with him. Mark comes back with a fry sticking out of his mouth. 

“Really?” He asks, breathless. The fry slowly disappears into Mark’s mouth and when he kisses Ethan it's all salt and grease. Mark breaks the kiss to whisper _potatoesssss!_ in a high pitch and laughs against his mouth. In the next kiss, all Ethan can taste is Mark’s happiness. 

Mark starts to really work his thighs, sweat forming on his forehead and legs trembling on every upwards motion. 

“Here - lay down.” Ethan pats at his hips until Mark flops onto the couch beside him, looking ready to take a nap but he reaches for Ethan and pulls him on top of him. When Ethan slides in, Mark wraps his ankles around the small of his back, adding to the momentum of his thrusts. 

It's good and it's hot and Ethan tucks his face against Mark’s neck, breathing hotly against his skin. Mark’s glasses push against his temple but he doesn't want him to remove them. He grips at the arm of the couch, letting Mark dig his heels into his back to let him know how hard he wants it. And apparently he wants it hard enough to make his eyes cross momentarily. 

“Come on, Eth. So close.” Mark groans. He's touching Ethan’s sides, his neck, his back, anywhere he can reach. Ethan kisses at his neck and pulls back. He watches Mark’s face as he fucks him with abandon, hips stinging painfully against Mark’s thighs each time he fucks in. 

Mark reaches for his own dick, pulling himself off in time with Ethan’s thrusts. There's a moment where Mark stills, his mouth dropping open and then he lets out a low moan and comes, spilling over his own fingers and belly. Ethan looks at the sight of Mark’s cum on himself as he reaches his own orgasm. 

They stay together while they come down, Ethan inside of Mark and Mark’s ankles loosely crossed at his back. They watch each other breath and it's- it's nice. Easy. 

“Alright,” Mark says. He pushes at Ethan so he can sit up and Ethan slumps against the back of the couch. “Get your pants on so i can whoop your ass at Mario Kart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk to me on tumblr! niallsthickneck


	3. Bad Cops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #JUSTICEFORGAYLE
> 
> Bad cop/Bad cop with Ethan in the middle!  
> Also, plot has arisen! There will be an endgame with this in the coming chapter/s so enjoy!!
> 
> Mark/Ethan/Tyler

Mark facetimes him as he's lounging in bed, half watching random videos on Youtube. When he accepts the call, Mark’s right eye takes up half of the frame. 

He's sweaty, hair flopping in front of his face and he's staring deeply at the bottom left of the screen. The camera is pointed to Mark’s right, just a long, lean back and dark wavy hair that sways over the man’s shoulders. 

Mark’s voice is a terrible whisper when he says, _Alex_ and when the man in question turns, Ethan can only just catch a brief flash of his face before Mark hastily ends the call. His one eye was wide at being caught. 

Ethan laughs to himself, thinking about resuming the video of seals sneezing and then his phone pings with an incoming text message. 

Mark’s text says, _did you get the email????_

Ethan clicks over to the tab and lets it refresh, Kev’s newest message sitting at the top, unread. Ethan reads and makes various faces at the plot, all ranging from amused to baffled. 

Ethan texts back, _cops gone wild??_ And adds three laughing emojis.

Mark’s reply comes after a handful of minutes, enough for Ethan to pad down to the kitchen and get juice from the fridge. It's just a bunch of cop related emojis and then tapers off into water emojis and heart eyes. 

_justice will be served,_ Mark adds after the catastrophe of characters. 

-

The location for the shoot is in an abandoned parking lot, past railroad tracks and long stretches of fields. He thinks he's taken a wrong turn before an open lot comes into view and a small trailer and two beaten down cars line the lot. 

Gayle is there, shouting something at the trailer window and already looks flustered. Ethan approaches him with caution. 

“Hey, Ethan.” Gayle says tiredly. “Whenever dumb and dumber finally get ready we can get started.”

Ethan nods, looking up at the window when he hears Mark say, “Ethan’s here?!” and then his face is pressed against the screen, nose smushed up and eyes bright. “Ethan, wait by the door - you're going to _die_.” His voice is so amused, which can not mean anything good. Or it could be the best thing ever. Mark is an enigma.

So, he waits by the door and Gayle has already wandered off, inspecting the cars but it just looks like a distraction from the two goons inside the trailer. 

The door flings open and Mark stands at the top with his knuckles presented on his hips. They've got him in a cop uniform, obviously a halloween costume because the star badge is bent at one of the tips and the hat looks more like a sailors cap. He's got black oversized shades on that cover up the majority of his cheeks and his pants pool at the top of his shoes. He looks ridiculous. 

Ethan's laughing and Mark revels in it, sauntering down the two steps like he's got a stick wedged up his ass. He stretches his legs out obnoxiously wide and hooks his fingers in his belt loops. 

A tall guy with a similar outfit stands behind Mark, wavy brown hair curling from under his hat. 

Mark turns around and takes a wide stance, puffing out his chest as he says in a terrible western accent, “This parking lot's not big enough for the two of us.” And pulls out a black plastic baton like a sword. 

The guy - Tyler, Ethan remembers seeing in the email, takes out his own baton and waves it at Mark, the two of them circling the other around the space with Ethan caught in the middle. 

Ethan's gasping as he says, “Wait, am _I_ the parking lot?” And Mark breaks his character by bending over in heaving laughs. 

Gayle’s voice is impatient when he shouts, “Can we _please_ get this going before it gets dark?” And then lower, “And before i reconsider all of my life choices.” 

They decide to give Gayle at least some peace of mind and take their places; Ethan in the front car and Mark with Tyler in the car behind. Ethan keeps looking at them in the rearview mirror, looking bizarrely sexy in their glasses and hats.

Gayle gets focused behind the camera, waving his hand in some vague sign of _go ahead_.

They've got a light placed on top of the car, flashing blue in increments. Ethan makes sure to make his face look like he's been caught, biting his lip and grips his hands on the bottom of the steering wheel. It's a good thing he's got a grip on something because Mark and Tyler step out of the car and - really the only appropriate word for what they do is _swagger_ to either side of Ethan’s car. 

The window is already down and Mark’s face comes into view on the driver’s side. He bends down, leaning his elbow on the door. His pointer finger pushes the top of the glasses down over his eyes. 

“License and registration.” His voice is ridiculous and his lips move in nearly every direction over every vowel. Ethan swallows down the laugh that bubbles up his throat. He hands over his own license and pulls out a random paper from the glove compartment. Mark doesn't even read either, but tucks them both in his back pocket.

“Did i do something wrong, Officer -,” He pauses and looks pointedly at Mark’s fucked up badge. It's crooked and written on with black sharpie. There's a smiley face drawn at the bottom. 

“Officer Handy.” Mark says. Of course it is. “And this is Officer Big.” His voice is three levels deeper than usual, all coming from his puffed out chest.

“Did you happen to see that stop sign you ran through?” Tyler asks, his voice startling Ethan. He looks over, licking his lips.

“I thought it was just a general statement.” He says as deadpan as he can possibly muster. His chest is so tight from not laughing. Tyler's lip quirks and Mark slaps the door a little harder than necessary.

Mark’s baton is suddenly in his hand, fingers wrapped tight around the plastic. He pouts his lips out and studies the stick like he's threatening Ethan with punishment. 

“I like your stick, it's very long.” Ethan swallows around his faux sultry voice. He's determined to keep his composure, no matter how bad his tummy hurts from suppressed laughter. 

Mark runs his fingers down the baton, “Thanks.” He says. “It was my grandfather's.” 

And they lose it. The three of them laugh so hard, they're barely making sound and it takes ten minutes to get themselves back under control. 

It's no surprise that Gayle nixes the batons. 

They reset and just progress faster to Ethan being out of the car, Mark and Tyler holding their stiff postures while Ethan leans against the car door. 

“Please don't give me a ticket, my dad will kill me.” He pouts and looks up from under his eyelashes. “I'll do _anything_.” He makes sure his tongue wraps around the innuendo. 

Mark and Tyler look to each other, eyes brightening in nothing but bad thoughts. They take a step closer to Ethan, crowding him against the car. 

“Anything?” Mark starts. Tyler joins in with, “Well that fine _would_ be pretty - _big_.” He licks his lips. 

Mark’s lips stretch into a grin and he leers, “Well, it seems we have a _big_ problem.” And rolls his hips suggestively. Ethan wants to say something containing the word _big_ just so he's not left out, but one look at Gayle’s slow shake of his head has Ethan forgoing that idea.

Ethan straightens his posture and blinks his eyes coyly. “Maybe i can help you solve that problem?” He trips over the end of the sentence - damn Gayle for not letting him continue the joke. He shakes his hands a little as he reaches for Mark’s belt, feigning nerves. 

Mark lets him tug at his belt, watching as his fingers undo the loop and unbutton his pants. Tyler crowds closer, his warm breath hitting Ethan’s ear. He wraps his arm around Ethan’s entire waist, making him feel small and delicate and _so fucking turned on_. 

Mark must hear his broken whimper because he smiles all knowing and laughs at the way Ethan’s hands still on his belt. 

“You like how easily he can wrap around you?” He teases. “Could probably pick you up with one arm.” 

Ethan inhales sharply. Tyler's palm presses over the space of his lower abdomen and he _must_ have superpowers because suddenly all the heat and blood in his body flows downwards. He's sure he's never gotten this hard so fast in his life. 

Ethan licks at the spit pooling in his mouth, escaping past his lips. Mark catches the action, wrapping his fingers around Ethan’s wrist and guides his hand down to where he's getting hard. 

At the same time that Tyler spans his entire hand over Ethan’s clothed dick, Mark presses Ethan’s hand against his own. They both moan at the same time and Mark whispers, _harmonization on point_. Ethan breathes out a laugh, rocking into Tyler's hand. 

He squeezes at Mark, reveling in the noises it punches out of him. He wonders if he could make Mark sing with just his moans. 

Mark’s pants are easily two sizes two big on him and when Ethan removes his hand to lick his palm, the material falls down Mark’s legs and leaves him standing with just his briefs. The two of them share a look of amazement, lips pursed and eyebrows raised. 

“Why don't you help Officer Handy with his problem,” Tyler suggests, moving him forward by the solid weight of his chest against Ethan’s back. Ethan nods, even though it's rhetorical and shimmies Mark’s briefs down on either side until his dick is exposed. 

Having Mark’s dick in his hand is starting to become somewhat of a comfort zone for him. It's like being reunited with a long lost friend. He almost wants to express his feelings to Mark, but even in his head it sounds ridiculous. So, he settles for squeezing the base and stroking his dick until it's hard and leaking in his hand. The spit makes it easier to twist his wrist and pull a gasp from Mark’s parted mouth. 

Tyler gets Ethan’s pants unbuttoned with one hand, slipping his hand below the band of his briefs and wrapping long fingers around his own hard dick. He matches the pace of Tyler's stroking with how own on Mark’s and watches the moans and groans fall past Mark’s lips.

“Mm - i just had the _best_ idea.” Mark says. He looks down at where Ethan is stroking his cock and then to where Tyler's wrist disappears past Ethan’s pants. 

“Better than pulling over a twenty year old twink and having him pull you off?” Tyler questions. He anchors Ethan’s back against his chest with his arm across his breast bone and strokes him _too fast too hard_ until Ethan’s lips are dry from panting. He most likely will reduce to a puddle on the ground if Tyler releases his hold. 

Mark laughs to the sky, head thrown back and mouth opening around silent pleasure. “Wonder if he can pull us both off at the same time.” Mark pushes the words out quickly, fucking his hips forwards into Ethan’s grip.

Tyler _hmmm_ ’s against Ethan’s ear, slowing the pace of his hand and inhaling the sounds of his heavy breathing. 

“What do you think?” Tyler directs at him. “Think you can handle two cocks at once?” 

Ethan’s mouth is suddenly wetter than the Niagara Falls at the thought of having two dicks in and/or around him at the same time. He nods, a little too enthusiastically and almost pulls Mark’s dick back to him when he slides his hips back and away from Ethan’s reach.

Tyler pinches his nipple as he pulls his arm away. Ethan nearly bites his tongue with the surprise of it. When he feels that he can move without walking like a newborn giraffe, he turns to flick Tyler on the nose or something, but aborts when he's met with the sight of Tyler’s bare belly and _very_ nice cock. 

He’s removed his shirt, long torso and clean shaven chest like a novel that Ethan spends too long reading and his legs are just as long. Everything about him is _big_ and _lean_ and Ethan drops to his knees.

Mark’s behind Tyler, shirt unbuttoned and hanging off of his shoulders, pants and briefs pooling at his ankles. He's still got the hat and glasses on and Ethan knows him well enough now to know that they are staying for the remainder of the video. Mark waddles over to stand next to Tyler and suddenly, Ethan has two hard cocks in front of his face. 

“Go on,” Tyler encourages. Ethan sticks his tongue out at him. Tyler pushes his hips forward and the tip of his dick slides against his tongue and along his cheek. Ethan chases it with his mouth, laughing at how many times it pokes him in the cheek. Once he gets his lips around it, he sucks at the tip and tongues at the slit. 

Mark’s just watching with interested eyes, hands on his hips and dick pushing out a drop of precum like it's proud. Ethan reaches out for him, petting at Mark’s pelvis just to feel the soft skin there, before sliding his fingers through the curly hair and wrapping delicate fingers around his dick. 

He switches his focus between Mark’s dick sliding between his fist and Tyler’s dick exploring the inside of his mouth, feeling like he's in heaven, kneeling here on this disgusting pavement at god knows where. There's about ten cigarette butt’s in a two foot vicinity from him. 

He also didn't take in account how badly the rocks of the ground would stab at his knees. He keeps shifting, taking Tyler's dick further into his mouth, nearly gagging on it just to distract himself. He winces when one of the rocks gets him right in the bone and closes his eyes shut tight against the pain.

“Hey.” Mark’s voice is soft and concerned. He waits until Ethan opens one of his eyes. “You alright?” He asks, even as he looks Ethan over, eyes zeroing in on his restless knees. He looks about two seconds away from calling this whole thing quits, just over Ethan getting a few rocks imbedded in his skin. 

Tyler looks between the two of them and rolls his eyes. “Let's get him up.” He says. “Think he really needs to _pay_ that fine now.” He stresses the innuendo out with wide eyes and Mark blinks his eyes three times and looks away from Ethan reluctantly.

“Yea,” He says slowly. Watches as Ethan stands and brushes rocks off of his jeans. He feels better now, but Mark still doesn't look appeased so he decides to just take his pants entirely off to show Mark that he's _fine._

There's a single scratch on his knee and Mark finally relaxes. He brings Ethan close to him by his hips and kisses him. It's softer than the ones they've shared before, but comforting nonetheless. 

Tyler’s hand caresses over his ass, pushing one finger against the fabric over his hole. He pulls Ethan’s briefs down his legs and gets one cheek in each hand, jiggling them up and down. Ethan laughs against Mark’s mouth and pushes back to get Tyler to get on with it. 

The familiar single use packet of lube makes its return and Tyler squeezes half the contents onto two fingers before immediately putting them in Ethan and thrusting in and out and crooking his fingers and bringing him to a whining mess without any warning. 

Mark pets his hips and slides his hand around to feel where Tyler is slowly fingering him open, adding just the tip of his finger and making Ethan bite his bottom lip to muffle his moan. Mark licks at the spot Ethan bit, smiling against his mouth and sucks at Ethan’s tongue like he wants to devour him. 

“You ready?” Tyler asks, which Ethan thinks is considerate but before he can answer, Tyler slides his dick into him. Ethan falls forward against Mark and breaks the kiss so he can exhale deep and even against Mark’s neck. 

Tyler’s dick is so long, it feels like Ethan has been impaled on a flagpole. Each time Tyler pulls out and pushes back in, Ethan swears it forces moans out of his mouth like those weird slide whistles. 

Mark holds him and whispers in his ear how hot this is, how good Tyler must feel inside of him. Ethan just mouths against the salty skin of his neck and tries not to clench each time Tyler bottoms out.

Mark says, “Hey kid,” and Ethan looks at him with stubbornly crossing eyes. “‘You ever been to France?” 

Ethan breaths out, “What?” But Tyler must understand where Mark is going with this because his thrusts go choppy and he says, _oh, fuck yea_.

“More specifically, the tower.” He pauses. “The - _french_ tower? Tower of Paris?” 

Tyler has fully stopped fucking him, his dick just halfway in Ethan’s ass. Ethan brings his face back to stare at Mark with an almost horrified expression. 

“What's the - the France tower?” Mark brings a hand to his forehead and proceeds to confuse his mind even further. “What the fuck -”

Tyler’s hands haven't even moved on his waist the entire time, just standing as still as Ethan is as they watch Mark have a mental breakdown.

“The Eiffel Tower!” He finally says. He laughs self deprecating and shakes his head as if to erase the last two minutes of his existence. 

Tyler slowly starts to fuck Ethan again, almost hesitantly so, as if he still can't get over how horrible that was. 

“I'm embarrassed for you.” Ethan tells him, but kisses Mark’s pouting lips to make up for it.

Mark groans, “Hey, I can be embarrassed of myself just enough, thank you.” He laughs to shake off the rest of the vulnerability and immerses himself into kissing Ethan for all he's got. 

“Anyways,” Mark announces. Laughs at his fine ability to get off track. “We're going to take you to the Eiffel Tower, baby.” He says it like he's just promised him a once in a lifetime trip, which Ethan supposes isn't too far off. 

Tyler’s hand slides up his back and he pushes at his spine, following the momentum as Mark steps back so that Ethan is bent over at eye level with his dick. 

He grabs hold of Mark’s thighs and let's Mark guide his dick into his mouth. As Tyler fucks him from behind, he pushes Ethan against Mark so that his dick slides in and out of his mouth at the same pace. It's maddening how when Tyler fucks forward, he also gets a dick down his throat and when Tyler pulls back, he's empty and only has a second to breathe before it happens again. 

He wonders if Mark and Tyler are kissing, not sure if he's sad or not at the fact that he can't see. He grips at Mark’s thighs as hard as he can, testing to see if he can leave marks with his short fingernails. 

Tyler starts pulling his dick all the way out and then filling him full with the entire length if his dick and Mark’s dick starts to hit the back of his throat with every thrust and he's so full and he can barely hear the other two moaning over the blood rushing in his ears. 

He tries to reach a hand down to stroke his cock but it just makes him lose his balance and nearly brain himself on the pavement, so he whines with Mark’s dick in his mouth and hopes he knows morse code or something so he gets the message. 

Mark’s hand covers Tyler’s over his spine and then, blessedly, Tyler's hand wraps around his dick and even just the pressure of a hand on his dick has him so fucking close to the edge. 

He's a moaning mess, readjusting his hands so that he's got Mark’s ass in his palms and he holds onto them tightly as he pushes Mark’s hips against his face as close as they can go and comes with Mark’s dick resting at the back of his throat. 

He can feel Mark attempting to thrust his hips, but Ethan doesn't loosen his hold until his orgasm washes over him and then he really just holds on so that he doesn't fall face first on the ground. 

Mark and Tyler set up a sort of teeter totter rhythm and get faster and faster and faster until Mark is coming down his throat, Ethan trying his best to swallow but most of it spills out the side of his mouth. He looks up at Mark so he can see his own come dripping past Ethan’s lips. He feels like a fucked out mess. 

Tyler fucks into him a few dozen more times and then he's coming, pulling out too abruptly and Ethan nearly head butts Mark in the dick when he stumbles. 

Mark rights him on his feet and keeps his hands anchored on Ethan’s biceps, taking in the sight of him still with come on his face. He kind of looks like he wants to lick it, but Ethan doesn't really know how he feels about that, so he kisses Mark and lets him taste himself on his lips.

“Thank fuck.” Gayle sighs. The sun is setting and he looks exhausted. “I don't want those costumes back. Get home in one piece please.” And then he's off. Ethan waves, stretching out his shoulders and moaning when he feels that satisfying _pop_ of a good stretch. He pulls his clothes on and daydreams about his bed. 

“Alright guys,” Tyler says, coming out of the trailer with sweatpants on and a long sleeve being pulled over his shoulders. “That was fun.” 

Mark snorts, “ _Disneyland_ is fun.” He points a finger at Tyler. “ _That_ was downright _raunchy_.” He laughs that bubbly laugh and his eyes swoop low with tiredness. 

Tyler laughs, in agreement. “Yeah, you're right.” He gives Ethan’s body a thorough scan and shakes some unspoken thoughts out of his mind. “Anyways, i guess i'll see you next week? You've gotta figure out what you wanna do since you denied the strip club idea.” 

Mark’s fingers tangle with Ethan’s and he pulls him in the direction of the trailer. “Why would I want to go to a strip club for my birthday? I see naked people every day.” He laughs. Tyler flips him off and Mark flashes him two. 

Tyler's laughing as he gets into his own car and then it's just the two of them. Ethan leans against the doorframe as Mark pulls on his own pair of sweatpants and t-shirt.

“Your birthday?” Is all Ethan can manage. He's always so sleepy after a good fuck. He could probably fall asleep standing up at this point.

Mark laughs, “Yea, surprisingly I _do_ have one.” He takes one look at Ethan’s droopy eyes and his face softens. “Come on, let's get you home.”

Ethan yawns and shakes himself awake, popping the trunk of his car and fishing out an unopened energy drink. 

“Let me know what you plan on doing - maybe i'll come.” He says all blazè, but inside he's thinking of what he's going to wear, what he should get Mark as a present and more importantly what kind of food he has at home because he is _starving_.

“Oh, i'm sure you'll _come_ alright.” Mark winks. He's a terrible winker. Ethan finds it adorable. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk to me on tumblr! niallsthickneck


	4. Birthday Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HOW THE HELL DID WE GET HERE?? this was just supposed to be porn. And here we are. 
> 
> It's Mark's birthday in this chapter and things happen. also sex. 
> 
> this is probably not the end, so don't worry. i just adore their friendship in this so much. i can't let go just yet
> 
> thank you so much for reading and all of the lovely comments. i absolutely love writing this, and i adore mark and ethan's relationship.

Over the next few days, Ethan runs enough miles to theoretically complete a half marathon (or so siri tells him), looks into adopting a dog and has mediocre sex on camera three times. 

It's as he's pressing at a youtube video for how jawbreakers are made (with his middle finger, as to not get cheeto dust all over his screen) that a series of texts chime in from an unknown number.

The first one says, _sparkles at 9pm on friday_

And then, _this is tyler btw_

And then the riveting conclusion, _not a murderer_

Ethan huffs out a breath, locking his phone altogether and slumping against the couch. 

Friday is Mark’s birthday. Mark, who hasn't talked to him since their shoot in the parking lot.

Ethan would be worried that he's lying in a ditch somewhere, pants-less probably, except Mark has uploaded two solo videos in the last two days. The only videos he's uploaded since their shoot nearly a week ago. He'd looked calm in the videos - almost _content_ to be by himself, touching his own skin and pulling moans from his own mouth rather than a writhing body underneath of him. 

Ethan has watched those two videos more than any video that has ever existed. And there's a video of a baby monkey getting a bath. Yeah.

He's also stuck on what to get Mark for his birthday. The dude isn't into anything wholeheartedly that would prompt an automatic gift idea. He buys things on whims and “feelings”. The other week he had ordered a knife because he felt that he was _destined_ to have it.

What the hell do you get for someone like that?

He's tried making him something, a shirt that says _Officer Handy_ , but his handwriting is all crooked and the paint gets all goopy and smudged and then he gets distracted and ends up just making stick figures all over the ruined shirt. 

Whatever, maybe Mark would just appreciate a good ole _congrats on getting older_ pat on the back.

Come friday though, he's not feeling the pat on the back. He arrives at the strip joint at 8:59 and stalls for time by kicking at a rock in the parking lot and pretending it's very important business. 

The bouncer looks skeptical as he hands over his license, looking back and forth between the card and Ethan’s slowly grimacing face a few times before he flicks it out towards him between two fingers. He always feels so young when people do that, even though he's twenty three and totally legal. Maybe he should grow a mustache.

It's loud and bright as fucking fuck in the club, neon pinks and purples flashing across his eyes. He hikes his backpack higher up his shoulder; it's just a simple black fabric so as to not draw attention. If anyone asks, he'd already planned on telling them there are snacks in there. 

It smells like fruity booze and sweat and there are dancing (more like invisible hoola-hooping) bodies spread across the floor. There's men and women alike dancing half naked on stage, grinding against poles and stepping on crumpled dollar bills.

Tyler's on stage, intoxicated giggling bouncing from his chest as he swings his shirt around the top of his head. 

Sean’s sitting at a table with a beautiful brunette girl, arm wrapped around her shoulder and talking over the lip of a beer bottle. 

His eyes lock onto a lone figure lounging on a pink velvet couch, idly watching the party live on around him. 

Ethan makes his way to Mark and sits down gently next to him, putting the bag on the floor by his feet. Mark looks at him and smiles tiredly, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth like he just needs something to do.

He's got a tiara on his head, _Birthday Bitch_ bedazzled in cursive plastic. There's glitter in his hair and a water bottle crinkling between his hands. 

“Having fun?” Ethan asks. It's rhetorical because Mark looks like he'd rather be anywhere else. So, instead of waiting for a sarcastic answer, he pats at Mark’s thigh and adds a little squeeze as he says, “Happy Birthday.” 

Mark nods, like he's probably done all night. 

Ethan plays with his own fingers, watching the bumbling mess of drunks gyrate on the floor and stage. His foot hits the bag on the floor and he toes at it. 

He has to lean in close to Mark to be heard without shouting. “I uh - didn't have time to wrap your present.” Which isn't technically true but it's a good opening line.

Mark smiles, soft and bashful. “You didn't have to get me anything.” He nudges at the tiara slipping off of his head so it sits upright again.

“I booked a room.” Ethan says and Mark’s face does a weird frowny thing.

“You got me a stripper?” He asks and almost sounds disappointed. 

“Well, no. Not really.” Ethan says, unhelpfully. He takes in a large breath and stands. Scoops the bag off of the floor by the strap. 

“Come with me?” He asks and holds out his hand. 

Mark looks between his open hand and his hopeful face and places his hand in Ethan’s. 

The room is a nice size, roomy and plush with a large open couch. A pole stands in the middle of the area, the lights dimmed to a soft red. The music is muffled by the thick walls, a steady bass vibrating the floor but low enough that it feels as if they are in an entirely separate world. As Ethan shuts the curtain, Mark takes a spot on the couch, sitting with his back straight and hands on his knees. He looks suspicious and ready to bolt at any moment.

Ethan ignores him, placing his bag on the couch and unzipping it, shielding Mark’s view from the contents.

He's not really sure how to get this going. Mark's glare burns like melted chocolate all over his body, and Ethan is pretty nervous - so.

So he tugs his shirt over his head and takes off his pants. 

Mark makes a sound like he might choke but his shoulders slowly unhinge from near his ears so Ethan takes it as a win and takes out the handcuffs from his bag.

He turns to Mark and side steps so he's next to the pole. He tries to casually lean his shoulder against the pole and misses, nearly braining himself on the edge of the couch. 

Mark's up in an instant, arm going around his bare waist and stares at him with such an intense look.

Ethan's voice is shaky and uneven when he says, “Well, i'm not a stripper but you get me for the night.” 

Such a stupid line. A stupid line he's repeated in his head all giddy for the past two hours.

Mark scans his eyes down his body, eyes catching on the metal of the handcuffs dangling by his fingers.

“Is that so?” He muses. His fingers tangle with Ethan's, not once looking away from Ethan's unsure eyes. He unhooks the handcuffs from Ethan’s fingers and brings them up between them. He doesn't even look at them, never once letting his eyes stray from Ethan's. It makes Ethan’s heart thump hard and almost painful, making his breath come in choppy past his lips. 

He's expecting the hard press of metal to bite at his wrists, for Mark to bind him and torture him for his own pleasure. 

He's not expecting the sudden press of lips against his own, a warm tongue sliding amongst his own. 

Mark kisses the breath right out if him, the pole behind him the only thing keeping him from letting Mark support his entire weight with nothing but the arm around his waist. 

The plastic tiara bumps against Ethan’s forehead and Mark blindly grabs it from off of his head, tossing it behind him and the _smack_ it makes against the wall makes Ethan jump.

Ethan thinks about those turning point moments in the high school movies, where the prom queen snaps the tiara into little pieces and tosses them into the crowd like some kind of hero. He wants to laugh at the imagery, but no.

There's nothing funny about this moment - _dear god_ there is absolutely nothing funny about the way Mark kisses him like he won't stop until he's touched every inch of Ethan inside and out. Nothing even remotely amusing about how Mark tangles their fingers together before raising their hands above Ethan’s head and then crossing his wrists behind the pole and restrains them to the pole with the handcuffs.

Mark slides his hands down his body tenderly and pulls his head back just far enough to take in the way Ethan is stretched out along the pole just for him, arms crossed behind his head and pulling his skin taut against his ribs and every dip in his body on display. 

Ethan grips the pole with either hand, flexing his biceps and shamelessly putting himself on display. He tries to arch his back, ass pushing against the pole.

Truly feeling his inner stripper, he rolls his ass against the pole and says, “I guess technically I _did_ wrap your present.” Hoping that Mark takes the hint and takes his boxers off.

Mark’s eyebrows twitch in confusion as he roams his eyes over Ethan’s body and then after a few minutes of just taking his fill, his eyes catch onto the only item of clothing Ethan is wearing.

He laughs like it surprises him. “Your dick isn't a gift, Eth.” And at Ethan’s affronted face he quickly adds, “No - i mean, it's you. Like this. With me.” He places his palm on Ethan’s stretched ribs, “Just for me.” 

“You fucking sap.” Ethan laughs, even though his body is on fucking fire. 

He grips harder at the pole so he doesn't melt into a puddle on the disgusting floor that has most likely seen one too many underpants on a daily basis. 

Speaking of underpants - hello floor, meet Ethan’s navy blue ones. 

Mark lowers to his knees on the floor, gripping at Ethan’s thighs for balance. He doesn't waste any time in getting his mouth on Ethan’s dick, which is _awesome_ because Ethan is so hard he can practically taste his orgasm thrumming through his veins.

Mark swirls his tongue and hollows out his cheeks, each action lasting a little longer than the last like he's cataloguing which move prompts what reaction out of Ethan. 

It's like learning the controls to a new video game:

The press of his tongue against the tip makes Ethan’s belly muscles constrict and a shuttery exhale slip past his lips.

A good, tight suck along his entire dick until just the tip is pressing against Mark’s wet lips makes his hips fuck forward and his head to bang against the pole.

And the tip of his dick hitting the back of Mark’s throat makes his entire body roll in a wave, a long moan following like an aftershock down to the tips of his toes. 

Mark switches up the combos, pulling Ethan's soul out of his body through high pitched whines and doesn't let him catch his breath once.

Ethan is panting and thoroughly wrecked by the time Mark stands back up, taking in the sight of his work as he unbuttons his own pants. 

Ethan’s arms are exhausted from their place above his head, but he's determined to last as long as he can, spread out for Mark and bound for his enjoyment. Maybe Mark will treat him to a bubble bath tomorrow. And feed him. 

As Mark takes _forever_ to undress, Ethan shakes out his wobbly legs and cracks each of his knuckles satisfyingly. 

Once Mark is blessedly naked, he takes each of Ethan’s thighs in his hands and squeezes at the muscles before starting to lift, Ethan catching on a moment too late and his wrists bend at awkward angles. He winces and glares at Mark, but goes with it as Mark hooks his legs around his waist.

“Uhm - i'm not sure if this is going to work.” Ethan says, adjusting his back so the pole isn't pressing against his spine. Mark is pretty much taking his entire weight, his ass nearly resting against his pelvis.

“If it gets too uncomfortable, just say the safe word.” Mark mumbles as he adjusts so that he has Ethan’s ass in one hand. Jesus.

“What's the safe word?” 

Mark smiles childishly, “Stop.” 

Ethan wants to kick him but doesn't in fear of suffering an unfortunate death by falling from a pole while handcuffed. Mom would be so proud.

Mark’s hand brushes against the small of his back as he strokes his cock a few times. He's licking his lips and his eyes ping pong along Ethan’s body.

“Do we have any-”

“In the backpack.” Ethan’s quick to say, wishing they would have thought about the lube before Ethan got comfortable. 

Mark carefully places him back on solid ground, nearly tripping over the piles of clothes littering the floor and plunging his hand in the bag for the bottle of lube. He turns back around and his face is nearly manic as he mimes doing a somersault back to Ethan. 

They take a minute to laugh and Mark’s smile tastes like heaven when he kisses him. 

Once back in their original position, Ethan tries to relax his shoulders and put his strength into lifting his back enough that Mark can get at where he's open and presenting. 

Mark fingers him open like he's trying to scratch an itch, stretching him out across three fingers and not stopping until Ethan’s legs are trembling. 

“One of my favorite things that you do,” Mark is saying as he slips a condom on. He lines up so that the tip of his dick is against Ethan’s hole. “Is when you push your heels against my back as i’m putting my dick in you - like you just want all of it at once.”

And sure enough, as soon as the tip pushes through, Ethan’s heels dig into Mark’s back and the embarrassed laugh at Mark’s previous statement quickly turns into a whine at how good it feels to have Mark inside of him.

“Hate you,” He pants, even as he arches his back to get more of that _so full so good so right_ feeling. 

“Hate you too, dear.” Mark says like a vow. He's grinning and giddy and so _proud_ of himself. Egotistical bastard.

Ethan figured that this would be rough. That as soon as Mark got his dick into him, he wouldn't stop fucking him until there were bruises on his thighs and back. 

He was wrong.

Mark fucks into him slowly and with even thrusts. He gets a hand on the small of Ethan’s back and rolls into him like they're slow dancing or something and somehow it makes Ethan more hard than he remembers ever being. 

Mark takes his time and his eyes close in his own sense of peace as he moves in and out in and out in and- 

“You close?” Mark asks. 

Ethan makes an affronted noise in between a moan. “How would that even be possible when you're going slower than fu- _uck”_

Mark snaps his hips and fucks in deep, effectively cutting Ethan’s complaint off into a squeak. He grabs hold of Ethan’s thighs and fucks hard, the bones of his hips kissing at Ethan’s sensitive skin each time he pushes forward. 

He doesn't so much as speed up his thrusts, more going deeper and grinding his hips so that Ethan feels every inch of him at all times. It feels so good but holy _fuck -_

“I can't feel my arms.” It's suddenly the only thing he can think about. “Did they fall off? Are they on the ground flipping me off for neglecting them?” 

Mark’s out of him and has his feet on the floor in the next minute. He quickly unlocks the handcuffs and his face is all winces and guilt. 

Ethan stands as still as ancient stone for a few agonizing moments, having to lower his arms in stages to dissuade a little of the numbing pain. 

Once his arms are stiff by his sides, he works on rotating his wrists and shaking his arms out like little tide pool waves. 

Mark watches him uneasily. His dick is still hard. 

“Alright,” Ethan says, rotating his wrist until it cracks three separate times. “Break time’s over.” He walks over to the couch and lays down on his side, propping his head on his palm. 

“Fuck me like one of your french girls.” He breathes. 

Mark’s laughing as he walks - more like _stalks_ over to Ethan, hands pushing and pulling at Ethan’s limbs until he’s got his ass hanging off the edge of the couch and his knees are two inches from his face. 

“Can you-” Mark begins and Ethan knows what he wants by the way he's staring down at where he's spread open. He links his arms below his knees, the dull ache in his muscles present but tolerable. He keeps his knees up and holds himself open for Mark.

“Wait- wait.” Ethan squirms until Mark lets him up. He's looking at Ethan’s arms like they really are about to fall off or something, but Ethan wipes that concerned look off of his face.

He grabs either side of Mark’s face and kisses him.

“Happy Birthday.” He says, so softly, not even angels in the sky would hear. Only Mark.

And this time - Mark smiles back.

Ethan flops back down, linking his fingers together across his hamstrings and smiles goofy at Mark until he's laughing fondly and his eyes are shining bright.

Mark slips in easily and the groan he lets out is delicious. 

“Yea,” He's saying as he rolls into Ethan. His eyes are closed and his body sways with languid thrusts. “Yea, _this_ is what i want.”

His voice is barely audible, like he's talking to himself. 

Ethan holds on and doesn't even have to fake the squeaky moans that punch out of him with every thrust. He's not sure if he can come like this - all twisted and bent. It feels like his spleen is in a pretzel.

Mark obviously has no such qualms. He's sweaty and content, face more relaxed than Ethan has seen in almost a week. 

When Mark’s thrusts start getting sloppy and jaded, Ethan tries to constrict his muscles, probably failing at squeezing Mark’s dick inside of him. So, he settles on positive reinforcement.

“So fucking good. Fuck me so good.” He says. He kind of hates dirty talk, the breathy and coy tone he uses as his _sexy voice_ makes him cringe a bit. But, it serves its purpose - so. 

“Nobody else makes me feel this good,” Which is actually the truth. His toes never curl in arousal with anyone else. He watches as a pained crease dips between Mark’s eyebrows. He's so close and Ethan is going to make it _so_ good for him.

“Want this all the time. Want you in me, on me, with me - always.” He's talking out of his ass at this point, not even sure what he's saying but the words just tumble out in between moans.

Mark nods, head bobbing like he's headbanging at a concert. “Yes, yes. Want that. Always. You.” He punctuates each word with sharp thrusts and finalizes the statement with his balls against Ethan’s ass and his dick nearly unknotting his spleen pretzel.

Ethan waits - a little impatiently since his arms are sore as fuck and his knees are cutting off his air supply, but he waits for Mark to catch his breath and ride the after effects of his orgasm.

Mark’s chest is rising and falling deeply as he pulls back, watching unfocused as Ethan unfolds himself. He's hard, but his body feels sated and properly tired after their pow wow. He sits up straight and cracks his back. A moan slips past his lips. _Fuck_ , that was good.

Mark’s fingers twitch by his sides. “Do you want me to-” He indicates Ethan’s dick. He looks tired as well but fully sated. Relieved. Refreshed.

“Nah,” Ethan shakes his head. “Making you come like that was enough of a release for me.” He winks. His eye twitches in exhaustion. “Plus, i'm pretty sure my limbs hate me right now.”

He lifts his arms up about as far as they are willing to go, which isn't much and lets them fall back down to the couch like sad spaghetti noodles.

Mark starts to put his own clothes on, tossing Ethan his shirt and pants - and then his underwear once he realizes that they are not the ones he originally showed up with. 

“Wanna come over tonight? I've got a carton of ice cream and a tube of icy hot.” He says it like it's the filthiest thing he can offer and waggles his eyebrows as he pulls his fly up.

Mark’s back tenses, his shirt stretched out over his shoulders as he pauses in pulling it over his head. He doesn't look at Ethan as he tugs on the rest of his clothes faster than their post coital strength usually provides.

“Not tonight,” Mark mumbles, patting down his pockets like he's in a hurry. “I've uhm, got some meetings in the morning.” He flicks his eyes up to meet Ethan’s and the furrow between his eyebrows smoothes out slightly. 

He stills his fidgeting, just staring at Ethan for a few moments like he's having an internal battle. 

Finally, he takes careful steps until his body heat raises goosebumps along Ethan’s arms. He slides his open palm along up Ethan’s jaw, thumb framing his face as he kisses him.

It's slow and deep and _fucking hell_ Ethan’s knees wobble and his arms clutch at Mark’s biceps just so he doesn't fall off the earth.

Mark pulls back, looking into Ethan’s eyes. “I'll see you, okay?” 

It's nervous and guilty and confuses the fuck out of Ethan. Alas, he can only nod. 

Mark brushes his thumb along his jaw and then he's walking away, ducking past the curtain. 

Ethan stays where he is for the time it takes him to stop feeling so tilted. He's not even focusing as he gathers up his things. The feeling of hard plastic hitting his fingers makes him pause and he picks up the tiara with too tight of a grip, the rhinestones bite into his skin.

He stares at it. _Birthday Bitch._ “What the fuck.” He says to no one and no one answers him.

-

So, when Mark said _I'll see you_ , Ethan didn't realize that meant _but not for a few days oh and I also won't text or call you for forty eight hours._

He has no idea what the fuck is going on with Mark. It's the same radio silence as after the cop shoot but this time Ethan's just _pissed_.

Like, if Mark just wants to fuck and duck then he should just say so. Yeah, the sex is stellar but Ethan just misses his best friend. 

Thankfully he has a meeting today to occupy his mind, some briefing with a lawyer from the company about his contract. He's been with them for a few months, so he supposes it's a mandatory performance review.

The building is tall and grey and the elevator is clunky with the number four button cracked. He presses it before he hits the eight, just because he can and hoping that it will break in spite. Something should break and he's determined to make sure it's not him or his emotions.

He knocks on the door, _Ms. Kimberly Holt_. and enters at her answering prompt. He's got his fake smile plastered on his face, but it slips and falls immediately when he sees the other occupant sitting in one of the two leather chairs facing the desk.

Mark doesn't look at him. He's gripping the arm rests so tight, there will probably be rips in the upholstery. 

The woman is all business esque - blacks and white stripes and metal framed glasses perched on her upturned nose. She smiles warmly at him and stands from her seat, offering her manicured hand. 

“Mr. Nestor, pleasure to meet you. I'm Kimberly Holt, please call me Kim.” She's friendly and professional and she doesn't sit until Ethan does. 

Ethan stares at Mark. Willing him to look back, to say something, _anything_. Mark stares at nothing in front of him. 

Kim either doesn't notice the tension or chooses to ignore it. She shuffles a handful of papers and adjusts her glasses.

“This will be quick and easy, just a few signatures and i will go over the guidelines the company has provided for your arrangement.” 

Ethan finally looks away from Mark, turning his frowny face at Kim. _Arrangement?_

“I have a copy of each of your current contracts, which will need to be terminated in order to move forward. So we'll start with that.” She says these words light and airy as if they make any sense. 

Ethan takes the paper she holds out to him with a trembling hand. “What -” He swallows. “Am i being fired?”

Kim looks up from where she was rifling through a binder of crisp white papers. She places the binder down on the table and folds her hands. 

“This is a necessary step in drawing up your new contracts. Since you will be doing a joint channel, your current solo content contract will not be valid.” She speaks slow and even, enunciating each point. “The company was very intrigued about the idea of their two best entertainers coming together to do a joint channel, but to make this work the way they would like it to, the two of you will not be allowed to do any scenes with another employee unless the both of you are involved.”

She smiles, the edges of her lips quirked up like she's waiting for them to nod and agree and ask for a pen and the dotted line.

Ethan doesn't blink. “Joint channel?” 

Kim’s smile goes wonky. Mark sucks in his lips and his nails scratch at the arms of the chair.

“I assumed -” Kim looks between the two of them. She sighs and closes her eyes before looking at Mark. “You didn't even _talk_ to him about this?” 

Ethan looks at Mark as well. He looks like someone who’s been caught under the stage lights. “Uhm.” He says eloquently. “I knew I forgot something?” 

Of course he would try to joke his way out of this. 

Slowly, the pieces start throwing themselves together. Mark only recently doing solo videos, his apprehension at being around Ethan when he _knew_ he was going to just shove this in Ethan’s face just a few days later. 

Kim brushes a stray curl from her forehead. “Lovely.” She murmurs. Her chair vibrates against the floor as she scoots back and stands. “I'm going to give you two some time to talk this over.” She makes for the door, mumbling “ _Ridiculous_.”

The door shuts and Ethan’s ears ring. 

“Why didn't you say anything?” He asks. Betrayed. Hurt. He empathizes with the number four elevator button now.

Mark’s voice is like a lightning strike to his heart - crackling and surprising. He hasn't heard his voice in nearly three days and he didn't realise how much he's missed it. 

“I was afraid you would say no.” He admits. 

Ethan laughs, it's hollow and near hysterical. “How would i say no when i didn't even _know_ what i could say no to?” He feels like he should be pulling at his hair. But, that's never been his stressful tic. Nope, he bounces his leg like he's ready to bolt and bites at the skin around his nails.

Mark opens his mouth but Ethan’s adrenaline is like _nope_!

“A _joint channel_ , Mark! The two of us, all the time!” He might need some eye drops because his eyes are as wide as they can go and it feels like they are going to be that way until his anxiety calms the fuck down.

“You kept this from me and made me feel like - like you didn't want anything else from me but sex.” And now his voice darkens with that hurt he can feel like a storm cloud over his heart. “You had this entire idea forming and you didn't even tell me. You shunned me out when you should have - of _all_ people, talked to me about it.”

Mark looks sad and kicked. “I didn't know how to tell you.” He says. “I was scared and in my own head and - sex doesn't even matter when i'm with you Ethan.” He finally looks over at Ethan. His eyes are puffy and the scruff along his jaw is dark.

“I haven't been happy with any of the shoots I've done in a _long_ time. It was just a job and i just got so bored and tired of the same routine.” His fingers start poking at the armrest between vowels and hard consonants. “And then there was you. Ethan, I haven't truly enjoyed doing a scene until I did that first one with you.”

Ethan mouths _me too_ because his voice has left his body, Ariel style. Mark has stolen his voice.

“It's not just the sex.” Mark smiles coyly, “I mean, don't get me wrong - it's fucking hot, but it's the creating with you that i want. Making art. Having fun.” 

Ethan plays the words back in his head like he's proofreading them.

Finally, “Why the fuck couldn't you just tell me that, you ass.” 

When Mark’s face falls, Ethan smacks his arm. And then tangles their fingers together.

“So fucking stubborn.” He mumbles. It's fond and gross and makes his heart sing. “Can't believe i'm binding my soul to yours.”

Mark’s face lifts up and Ethan smiles with his tongue between his teeth.

"Don't you mean your ass-"

Kim pops her head in the door, “Oh, thank god you didn't start shagging on my desk. I was worried about that.” She strolls into the room and poses herself straight in her chair.

“So,” She prompts. “Are we doing this?”

Ethan squeezes Mark’s hand. 

“Yeah, let's do it.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk to me on tumblr! niallsthickneck


	5. It's not delivery - it's porno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pizza is hot with this one 😉🥵
> 
> How would you guys feel about a M/M/F chapter? It WILL NOT be Amy, just to let you know. 
> 
> Just a side note: from here on out it will mostly just be porn. obvs mark and ethan are sappy fucks who love each other but majority will just be sex. 🤗

Doing shoots with Mark and doing shoots  _ exclusively  _ with Mark are two entirely different realities. 

They’re boyfriends - well, as far as the public thinks. The company had instructed them to evade questions regarding the state of their relationship, just until the channel gets traction and the mood of the channel is established. There’s a fine line between watching two actors pretending to be boyfriends and enjoying an in-love couple have sex. 

They completely ignore tweets about whether or not they are actually dating and instead respond with how excited they are about the channel and occasionally post suggestively close pictures of the two of them.

They learn a lot about each other. Little details about the other that only show through when you start to spend the majority of the day’s hours in each other's breathing space. 

Mark sings all the time. Whilst he's cooking, he'll start humming some nameless tune, half formed words whispered under his breath like he doesn't even realize he's doing it. In the shower he's loud, belting out early nineties hits enthusiastically (and then promising an encore to his imaginary audience after he's done an entire concert to his shampoo bottles).

They wear the same size shoe. A fact that Ethan loves and Mark hates. More than once Mark had complained over text that he couldn't find a certain pair of shoes, only to receive a picture message of said shoes on Ethan’s feet, accompanied by a dozen angel emojis.

They get closer - which neither of them truly realized just how possible that was. They bicker and they laugh and they talk almost entirely in inside jokes and -

And it's awesome. 

-

“Did they airbrush my forehead?” Mark asks in disbelief. “Is that what my forehead looks like?”

Ethan’s laughing too hard at Mark’s existential crisis to even answer. 

The website for their new channel has finally been finished and both of their managers had sent them over a copy of the website. 

It's so weird looking at a blown up picture of him and Mark posing together shirtless. Mark is all chest out, arms flexed. Ethan’s focus is more on his thin waist and young features. They look good together, which they get told all the time from their fans. But seeing it this close and in surprisingly high definition, it's baffling.

And fucking hilarious.

“I remember having to piss  _ so  _ bad and they kept yelling at you for closing your eyes while smiling,” Ethan chokes out, wiping tears from his eyes.

In a truly outstanding show of creativity, the channel is named  _ Mark and Ethan. _

“That's why they make the big bucks.” Mark jokes. It's sad because it's probably true. 

Overall, the website looks good. Their previous solo channels have been hidden from the public, where their names stood alone on the company's front page now redirects to the currently unavailable joint channel.

-

Their first shoot as a unit takes place in a nice as hell beach house. Apparently it's one of the company’s head honchos and the fact they let them use it to rub their bare asses all over the couch is truly outstanding.

“Can we actually get pizza after this though? I'm starving.” Ethan pats at his empty stomach in sympathy. The couch that him and Mark are lounging on is pretty comfy, even with the random bits of sand showing up from god knows where.

“Oh, you want your pizza  _ and  _ eat it too?” Mark jokes. It's so fucking supid and nobody laughs but them. That's fine. 

“ _ Do you want to fuck your pizza boy?”  _ Ethan brings his hand to his mouth like he's holding a microphone and talks as if he's selling something mind blowing. “Well what if i told you that you could fuck him  _ and  _ eat his pizza!”

The two of them fall into each other laughing. Ethan's so hungry, he starts hiccuping which just further fuels their giggling.

“S’up fuckers!” 

Ethan’s giggling pops like bubbles in his chest as he looks over at Seán walking into the room, hat facing backwards on his head and a travel mug of coffee in his hand. 

Mark stands and hugs him, the familiarity and ease at which they embrace each other makes Ethan smile. And feel a little left out. He immediately gets to his feet and wraps his arms around Mark, fingertips squeezing at Seán’s arms. Mark groans from where he's squished in the middle.

When they pull back, Seán sips from his mug. “Congrats on the joint channel. That’s like marriage for porn stars, in’nit?” He smirks around his straw.

“Beyoncé should make a song for that.” Ethan wonders.

“If you like it then you should've put a cock ring on it.” Mark thrusts his hips out suggestively. 

They fuck around for a while, just taking the piss out of whatever comes to mind, until a tall lanky dude comes up to them with a clipboard. It has a single paper on it with less than ten words.

“Alright, so we're going to get Seán to wait outside while Mark and Ethan start inside. We'll let you know when to knock on the door.” He directs the last part to Seán, who nods and salutes them off with, “Fuck ya later boys.” 

Tall and lanky looks down at his clipboard like there's more than two sentences on it. “The play of the scene is that you two are boyfriends who start fooling around and then the pizza boy shows up.”

“Are we to be completely naked when Seán knocks on the door?” Ethan asks. 

Tall and lanky holds his hand out. “That is up to you guys, however you feel would benefit the best.”

Mark frowns and his face goes all inquisitive. “I don't know man - i don't know how i would feel if i knocked on a door and then there's just dicks all out in the open.” 

Ethan agrees. “Yeah, I think that would be more horrifying than sexy.”

“Just start doing what you do best and we'll see where it goes.” Tall and lanky says and then he's lank-ing away. 

Ethan tries to keep his voice low as they move to the couch, “The thing I do best is backflips.” He says, bumping into Mark’s shoulder. “Think he'll be mad if i throw one in?”

Mark thinks, lowering himself onto the couch and looking up at Ethan. “We'll see where it goes.” He echoes the dude’s earlier statement. 

Ethan laughs as he sits down. The camera pointing straight at them is always daunting at first. He tries to ignore it and focuses on Mark once the woman behind the camera gives them the go ahead.

Ethan brings his feet up behind him, leaning into Mark. “I had so much fun today.”

Mark smiles, throwing his arm over Ethan’s shoulder and pulling him in against his side.

“Yeah, seeing Twilight for the twelfth time is just as good as the first.” He declares. Ethan pinches his side so he doesn't bark out an ugly laugh.

You know what else is just as good as the first time?” Ethan suggests, moving his hand to sneak underneath Mark’s shirt and feel his warm skin.

Mark’s chest jumps where Ethan’s hand rubs at and Ethan just  _ knows  _ that Mark has a witty joke right on the tip of his tongue. But, one look at Ethan’s wide and heated eyes has Mark at a loss for words, lips opening around hot breaths.

“Yeah,” Mark whispers and then he's kissing Ethan, moving against him and into him, his hand coming up to frame his face and then dropping to his neck when the director woman makes an aborted noise.

Kissing Mark is one of Ethan’s favorite past times. It's fun in the way that it's never the same, the two of them taking what they want and dancing to their own beat. They challenge each other to see who can make the other moan first. 

Mark loses - hah. Ethan uses his knowledge of Mark’s sensitive nipples against him and shoves his tongue deep as he pinches his nipple. Mark’s moan seems to catch him by surprise and he squeezes at Ethan’s neck impulsively. 

He starts to tug at Ethan’s shirt like he needs to even the score and get Ethan naked first. Ethan’s all for it, if it means he can get Mark’s hands on him quicker. 

Mark’s got his limbs all twisted trying to get the shirt over his head and when it finally unhooks painfully from around his ears, Mark’s face comes into view and he whispers, “Boo!” Like the dork he is.

Ethan climbs into his lap grinning, loving how he feels so powerful towering over Mark. He gets to lead the kiss, angle Mark’s face the way he wants with his hands holding his cheeks. Mark’s hands rub over his back and dip below the waistband of his pants.

He wonders what Seán is doing - probably finishing off the last dregs of his coffee.

They get Mark’s shirt off in between wet kisses and then they spend a few tantalizing moments just feeling each other, Ethan slowly rocking into Mark’s lap. 

Mark shoves his hand down the back of Ethan’s pants, one single finger pressing against his hole. Ethan moans and at the same time his belly rumbles and he moans even loader to cover it up. 

“Hungry boy,” Mark teases. 

Ethan glares at him but it holds no heat with the grinding of his hips. “Yeah, so get a move on with it.”

Mark laughs as he removes his hand, unbuttoning Ethan’s pants and maneuvering them so Ethan can slide them off. Before he climbs back on, they get Mark’s pants off and come back together with only their underwear on.

They really go for it then, playing it up as much as they can to get to the next part. Ethan tangles his fingers in Mark’s hair and messes it up as much as he can. Mark grips his skin tight enough to leave temporary hand prints on his skin and it's so hot and so  _ good  _ -

And then there's a knock on the door.

They break apart, staring at each other with heaving breaths.

“Pizza.” They say at the same time.

They disentangle, but just so. Mark’s hands are on him as soon as they are both standing, touching any part of Ethan’s skin he can reach. 

He’s clinging to his back when Ethan opens the door, hands low on his hips and mouth at his shoulder. 

“Dough Boy’s Pizza -” Seán makes eye contact and freezes. His hat is facing the proper way now, doing nothing to hide his wide eyes and wet open lips. Ethan forgot how full his lips were. 

“Oh, good - i'm  _ starving.”  _ Ethan licks his lips suggestively and reaches for the pizza box. It's empty, unfortunately. Actually, it may be a good thing that he won't have to be enticed with the smell of food whilst - heh, preoccupied. 

“Uhm,” Seán says. His eyes slide to Mark’s and then to where his fingers are just slipping past the elastic of Ethan’s briefs. “Fourteen-fifty.”

Ethan reaches for the money on the table next to the door, trading the bills for the pizza box, Mark moving with him seamlessly. He frowns though, sticking his lips out in a pout.

“Damn, i don't have enough for a tip.” He hands the fifteen over and covers one of Mark’s hands with his own. “Baby, do you have any money?” 

Mark squeezes at his hip bone, talking into his shoulder. “I gave you what I had,  _ baby _ .” 

Oh. Ethan apparently likes being called that. His dick surely does.

Ethan’s distracted by Mark’s fingers slipping even lower, when Mark says, “Maybe we can give him a different  _ tip _ .” 

Seán waves his hands dismissively, “Uh, I’m not-”

“Into dicks?” Mark supplies. His hand is fully in Ethan’s pants now, wrapping around his dick. Ethan moans, leaning back into Mark’s chest and rolling his hips into his hand.

Seán clears his throat, eyes stuck on the movement of Mark’s hand jacking Ethan off. “Actually, i was going to say that I’m not off for another hour.”

He blinks like he needs to physically stop himself from watching the obscene image in front of him. When his eyes open, he's staring at Mark, determined.

“But i fucking hate this job anyways.” 

They grin together. 

Ethan has no choice but to move when Mark starts walking backwards since he  _ literally  _ has Ethan by the dick. 

He ends up on Mark’s lap again, this time facing the opposite way, legs spread and Mark’s hand still slowly stroking him. It feels good but not enough and Ethan’s moan is more of a whine.

“Shh, baby. I've got you.” Mark says into his ear before nipping at the lobe. Ethan’s eyes flutter open and he almost startles at the sight of Seán standing before him, watching them with his arms crossed and an unsure look twisting his face.

Mark uses his free hand to pull Ethan’s briefs down so that his dick is free to the world, tucking the band under his wrist. The cool air makes him hum approvingly.

Ethan looks over at Mark and finds that his eyes are solely on Seán’s. His eyes are dark and almost predatory. Like he's found his prey. Ethan is both nervous and  _ so fucking turned on _ .

Apparently Mark’s calling the shots. “Why don't you get on your knees.” He advises, but it comes out as an order.

Seán licks his lips before doing just that, shuffling across the carpet until he's at eye level with Ethan’s dick. He just looks and Mark’s hand stops under the head of his dick.

“Go ahead.” Mark encourages. Him and Ethan watch, enraptured as Seán slowly moves towards his dick and licks at the tip. His hat pokes at Ethan’s belly and gets removed, tossed onto the floor.

Mark’s hand moves lower as Seán’s mouth does the same and the sensation of Seáns wet mouth and Mark’s rough hand moving at the same time on his dick is - well, he's surely not complaining.

Mark’s dick is hard and poking him in the back, so Ethan tries to rub back against him as they work him over, anchoring his hands on Mark’s thighs for leverage.

“You wanna fuck him?” Mark asks and at first Ethan thinks he's talking to him with how close his mouth is to Ethan’s ear. But Seán releases his dick with a pop and trail of spit from his lips.

“Yeah.” His voice is wrecked and raspy. “Can I?” 

Ethan almost laughs, thinking  _ why do you need permission _ before he remembers that - right, him and Mark are  _ lovers  _ or whatever.

“What do you say, baby?” Mark asks him this time. He keeps stroking his cock. 

Ethan stares at Seán’s swollen lips. “Yeah - yes, please.”

He's waiting for the tease of his politeness, but instead Mark shoves his underwear the rest of the way down his legs and grabs at one of his thighs to spread his legs open.

Oh. So, he's getting fucked whilst sitting in Mark’s lap. Okay.

There's a handful of packets of lube tucked in the corner or the couch - which are going to be used later apparently. Seán pushes at Ethan’s other leg and Mark hooks both hands under his thighs to really open him up. With his ass on display, Seán spreads his cheeks and licks him open.

Once he adds a finger, then two and finally -  _ holy fucking hell, yes -  _ three, Ethan is a mess. A mess in pure bliss, but a mess nonetheless. He can't seem to catch his breath, with Mark anchoring his knees to his chest and effectively holding his body against his own, and with Seán working wonders with his mouth and tongue and hands, Ethan is incapacitated.

They must sense his struggle. Or feel him wiggling around like a loon, but either way, Seán pulls away and leaves him wet and breezy down below.

Besides the lube, condoms are not optional. Seán puts one on while Mark goes back to stroking him slowly, turning his head like a rag doll to pull him into a filthy kiss. 

The camera is focused on them, a nice cut scene while Seán gets himself suited up. Ethan lets his jaw drop and Mark’s tongue to throughly fuck his mouth.

Once Seán is standing between his legs, Mark slows the kiss to more intimate pecks, pulling back to stare lovingly in Ethan’s eyes. The fans are going to eat that shit  _ up _ .

Mark hooks his hands under his thighs once more and opens his legs out, watching as Seán guides his dick into Ethan.

Seán is  _ thick _ . Not as long as Mark but the stretch is nice and welcomed. Ethan breaths deep and heavy around an open mouth, eyes looking up from under his eyelashes so the camera can truly capture his pleasure.

He's moaning, not even really realising it until Mark’s kissing the shell of his ear, comforting noises whispered in his ear.

“Doing so good, love.” Mark says. His body is still as Seán fucks in rough and deep for a few minutes, the slap of their skin meeting loud in the room. “How does he feel?”

Ethan enjoys the feeling of himself stretched out around Seán’s dick, spread out on display and Mark solid underneath him. It's kind of overwhelming.

“So good,” He moans. Lays his head back on Mark’s shoulder. “So fucking good, babe.” 

Man, who knew pet names were so fun to use?

Seán leans his weight forward, trying to get better leverage. He ends up with his hands on Mark’s shoulders and his chin level with Ethan’s forehead. 

Ethan feels crowded, caged in between these two men. It isn't suffocating though - far from it. When Seán nails a particularly delicious thrust in, Ethan lifts his head from Mark’s shoulder with a groan. It grants him the view of Seán’s face an inch from his own. 

They watch each other for a few strokes, heat and arousal swirling between their shared space. 

Seán closes that small distance and their mouths join together, lips meeting and gliding and when they moan, it only makes the kiss even hotter. 

Mark brings his palm to Ethan’s cheek, finger searching until he's reached the tangle of tongues and he pushes his finger in the middle. Seán and Ethan lick around his finger, passing it back and forth between their wet, hot mouths.

It's so filthy and sexy and Ethan groans and whines as Seán fucks him deep, Mark’s finger dragging his lip down and tracing the path Seáns lips take on his own.

Mark shifts, and suddenly he's got his face right next to Ethan’s, stretching to get a taste of their kiss. Seán meets him halfway, bringing Mark into the mix and Ethan breaks away so they can have their moment. 

It's so fucking hot watching up close and personal as they kiss and suck at each other's tongues, boxing Ethan in the middle. He wants to touch himself, bring himself to orgasm, but Mark still has his thighs pushed back and open.

They kiss and kiss and touch Ethan - his collarbone, his ribs, his thighs. It's like he can feel their pleasure through their touches. They break apart gasping and enjoy the sound of Seán fucking into Ethan.

Mark’s so hard against his back, Ethan’s surprised he hasn't tried to slip his dick in alongside Seán’s. 

“Want you to ride me, baby. Bounce on my dick while you suck his dick.” Mark’s mouth is wet as he speaks against Ethan’s ear. Ethan’s nodding, both at the suggestion and at the fast pace Seán has picked up.

When Seán pulls out and Mark guides his thighs down, Ethan’s legs twitch and shake and tremble. He tries to stand, but he feels like a baby deer learning to walk and ends up on his knees on the floor. 

Seán pitches the condom, stroking the lingering effects of Ethan’s tight ass from his dick and then guides the tip to Ethan’s mouth.

He sucks him for the time it takes for Mark to put on a condom and resituate himself on the couch.

Seán fucks his hips to counteract with Ethan’s bobbing, trying to encourage some gagging noises out of him. 

He stands, holding onto Seán for support and nearly falls right onto Mark’s dick. Sinking down onto Mark’s hard cock feels like home. Something he will think and  _ never  _ say out loud.

His thighs are still sore from Mark’s hold on them, but he embraces it and brings his feet up onto the couch cushions, either side of Mark’s legs. Mark guides him with his hands on Ethan’s hips. Up and down, up and down - it's so fucking good and the spread of his legs just makes the pleasure even better.

Seán steps into his space and gets his dick back into his mouth. It's complicated to focus on two different motions at once, so Ethan let's Mark throw him around on his dick and Seán to fuck into his mouth and nearly down his throat.

There's so many different levels of moans, it's almost like a choir and Ethan is in absolute bliss, he feels like he's going to come so  _ fucking good _ .

He trusts Mark to hold him steady as he brings a hand up to touch Seán. Stroke his dick a few times and squeeze just to feel his hips twitch and fuck sporadically. Juggle his balls and touch right behind the soft skin to have him fuck as deep as he can and - yep, there's the gagging.

If only Mark would touch his dick, he would come. But, Mark seems hellbent on fucking him nice and steady, bringing him to the edge and just holding him there. 

Ethan - trying his hand at devious little slut, slams down on Mark’s cock and just  _ sits. _ As he stays put deep as fucking fuck on Mark’s dick, he sucks Seán’s dick and holds it in the back of his throat, swallowing involuntarily to not gag. 

“Fuck-” Mark curses.

Seán’s hand goes to the back of his head and holds on. “Fuckin’ christ.” 

He holds as long as he can and releases them at once, bouncing on Mark’s dick and sucking the tip of Seán’s. Mark finally touches him, reward for a job well done maybe. Ethan doesn't hold back anymore.

He moans and lets Mark fuck him and pull him off with vigor. Seán uses his mouth and holds his head with a hand on the back of his skull.

Ethan can only moan some garbled mess as he comes, hot and toe curling all over Mark’s hand and legs. He feels boneless and amazing.

The two remaining race to the finish, using Ethan for their own releases. Mark keeps his hand on his spent dick like he doesn't even realize and he groans as he thrusts hard and sloppy, his orgasm hitting without warning.

He's still fucking into Ethan as Seán looks at the pair of them, fucked out and beautiful. He uses his hold on Ethan to truly fuck the shit out of his mouth. Ethan helps him out by sucking his cheeks in and opens up his throat.

Ethan swallows when Seán comes, a truly disgusting taste that he tries to keep from showing on his face.  _ Mm yummy.  _ He thinks as he stares at the camera, letting some of the cum drip out of his mouth. 

They catch their breath and touch for comfort, matching their breathing to each other until they are just sated, tired bones. 

Ethan leans back against Mark and hums while Seán flops down next to them.

He'd almost forgotten how hungry he was, but now, his stomach feels empty and void.

“Pizza time?” He asks hopefully. His stomach growls louder than their moans were. Mark and Seán laugh, poking at Ethan’s stomach.

“Let's get carryout though - i don't think i can look at a pizza boy for a long time.” Seán laughs, grabbing his hat from the floor and placing it on his head backwards.

“It's not delivery - it's porno.” Ethan imitates the slogan and the three of them laugh, leaning into each other and trying not to fall asleep with how comfortable they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk to me on tumblr! niallsthickneck


End file.
